MYRTLE  BALDWIN 


I 


CHARLES  CLARK  MUNN 


MYRTLE  BALDWIN 


"How  long  were  you  building  this  hut,  Myrtle?"  —  Page  43. 


MYRTLE     BALDWIN 


BY 
CHARLES   CLARK   MUNN 

AUTHOR  OF   "UNCLE  TERRY,"    "  ROCKHAVEN,"    "THE  HERMIT,' 

"  POCKET  ISLAND,"    "  BOYHOOD  DAYS  ON  THE  FARM," 

AND     "THE    GIRL   FROM    TIM'S    PLACE" 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  HENRT  ROTH 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,  LEE   &   SHEPARD  CO. 


Published,  August,  1006 


COFYRIGHt,   1908 

BY  LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  Co. 


All  Rights  Reserved 


MYRTLE  BALDWIN 


NORWOOD   PRESS 

BERWICK  &  SMITH  CO. 

NORWOOD,  MASS. 

U.  S.  A. 


INTKODUCTION 

As  the  fairest  and  most  fragrant  lily  often  blooms 
from  the  most  unpromising  spot,  so  do  I  believe  a 
noble  and  heroic  soul  will  rise  superior  to  all  the 
drawbacks  of  lowly  birth,  evil  environment,  and  al- 
lurements of  vice  amid  poverty. 

To  those  of  my  friends  who  thus  believe  with  me 
and  admire  moral  worth,  I  offer  the  pertinent  ex- 
ample of  this  history  of  Myrtle  Baldwin.  I  also 
offer  an  apology  for  the  correlated  and  enforced  pre- 
sentation of  less  attractive  characters. 

CHAELES  CLABK  Muinsr. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAQB 

I.    THE   WAIF 1 

II.    MARK  MASON .     .     10 

III.  A  HERITAGE  OF  SHAME 23 

IV.  ONE  SUMMER  AFTERNOON 35 

V.  MYSTIC  MOONSHINE   .      ........     49 

VI.    THE  POWER  OF  HOPE 63 

VII.    THE  Two  SIDES  OF  LOVE 73 

VIII.  THE  MISFORTUNE  OF  CHANCE     .                    .     87 

IX.    A  CELTIC  NEWS  AGENT 99 

X.  DESOLATION  AND  DESPERATION       .     .     .     .111 

XL    FINAL  DESPERATION 124 

XII.    INTO  THE  GEEAT  WORLD 137 

XIII.  THE  GROWL  OF  A  SEA-DOG 148 

XIV.  "BATS  IN  HIS  BELFRY" 161 

XV.    INTO  A  SELFISH  WORLD 175 

XVI.    A  MYSTERIOUS  MESSAGE 189 

XVII.    ON  FOLLY  ISLAND 199 

XVIII.    "FOOL  ILLUSION" 210 

XIX.     CONWAY  HOLLOW 221 

XX.    THE  FATAL  GIFT 234 

XXI.    A  NEW  AND  ONLY  SISTER 244 

XXII.    "  YE  DRUMMER  " 250 

XXIII.  A  FEW  FRIENDS 266 

XXIV.  INTO  A  GREAT  CITY 281 

XXV.  COMMOTION  AT  CONWAY  HOLLOW    ....  293 

XXVI.    ATHENS 307 

XXVII.    A  VANISHING  HOPE 319 

XXVIII.  'A  CONFERENCE  OF  WAYS  AND  MEANS  .     .     .  328 

XXIX.    A  CASE  OF  CONSCIENCE 340 

XXX.  ON  A  LONELY  ROCK-BOUND  COAST  .     .          .  345 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  .                                                                                                   PAGE 

XXXI.    ONE  GRAIN  OF  SAND 362 

XXXII.    A  DEATH-BLOW  TO  LOVE 377 

XXXIII.  CINDY  ONCE  MORE 389 

XXXIV.  A  WOULD-BE  LECOQ 402 

XXXV.  THE  DEPTHS  OF  AN  EVIL  NATURE  ....  415 

XXXVI.  CHRISTMAS  AT  GOOD  WILL  FARM  ....  429 

XXXVII.    THE  LAST  OF  ASKING 441 

XXXVIII.    THE  Mnxs  OF  GOD 453 

XXXIX.    A  VOICE  FROM  DARKNESS 469 

XL.    THE  SWORD  OF  SUSPENSE 485 

XLI.    THE  BREAK  OF  DAT 495 

XLII.  A  NEW  WORLD                                              .  501 


"  How  LONG  WERE  You  BUILDING  THIS  HUT,  MYKTLE?  " 

(PAGE  43) Frontispiece 

FACING   PAGE 

"  KEEP  OUT  o'  SIGHT,  YE  HUSSY  !  " 4 

"  LET  THAT  GIBL  ALONE,  JUDSON  BALDWIN  !  "  .     .     .     .  126 

"  MOTHER,   GET  MB.  MASON   THAT   NOTE   OUT   o'    THE 
BIBLE." 214 

IT  WAS  ACT  AT  ONCE 270 

"  EF  THAT  AIN'T  OUR  PUBTY  TABLE-GAL,  I'M  A  GOAT  !  "  294 
HE  PASSED  NOT  TEN  FEET  FROM  WHERE  MYETLE  STOOD  376 
"  You  BRUTE  !  " 420 

"  I  HEY  A  MlSSAGE  FEB.  YE  —  IN  THIS   INVELOPE,  SOR  "    .    470 

A  NEW  BEAUTY,  THE  EXQUISITE  CHARM  OF  LOVING  AND 
BEING  LOVED,  GLORIFIED  HER  FACE 502 


A  FABLE 

When  Prometheus  was  ordained  by  Zeus  to  make 
the  creature  Man,  he  fashioned  the  human  ear  like 
a  shell  that  it  might  gather  and  augment  all  sounds. 
Then  to  protect  his  new  creation  from  the  siren  voice 
of  flattery  he  called  upon  Arachne  to  spin  a  web  over 
the  ears  of  man  so  fine  that  only  the  whisper  of 
Truth  should  enter. 

But  Hermes,  spying  upon  these  two,  grew  jealous, 
fearing  that  this  mortal  would  become  his  rival  with 
the  Nymphs,  and  watching  his  opportunity  before 
Consciousness  came  to  the  new  creature,  he  tore  the 
web  away  from  one  ear  so  that  falsehood  might  enter 
the  brain  of  Man. 

"  Glory  be,"  he  said  in  derision  as  he  stole  away, 
"  now  these  mortals  shall  always  hear  and  believe  the 
thing  that  is  not,  for  the  loud  blasts  of  falsehood  en- 
tering one  ear  will  overcome  the  low  whisper  of 
Truth  in  the  other  for  all  time." 

When  Man  assumed  life  and  Arachne  saw  what 
the  boy,  Hermes,  had  done,  she  was  angry  and  wept. 

"  Do  not  grieve,  my  daughter,"  said  Zeus,  who 
foresaw  all  things,  "for  while  Truth  will  benefit 
Man  if  "heard,  he  will  not  relish  it  at  all.  Rather  will 
Tie  enjoy  falsehood  a  thousand  times  more,  and  die 
content  in  his  delusions." 


MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  WAIF 

CAP'BT  JUD  squat  on  an  overturned  trawl-tub  in 
his  dory  that  July  morning,  bent  forward,  seized  a 
mackerel  from  the  half-filled  stern  compartment, 
slapped  it  on  the  cross-thwart,  slit  it  with  an  indrawn 
knife-stroke,  tossed  the  refuse  overboard  with  a  flip 
of  its  point,  and  the  fish  into  a  tub  of  water  on  the 
floating  wharf;  a  motion  and  action  almost  in  time 
with  each  lift  of  the  boat  on  the  incoming  swells. 
A  faint  breeze,  crisp,  salty,  and  zestful  blew  into 
Folly  Cove,  a  ripple  of  tiny  waves  spread  in  blue 
patches  across  it,  a  few  gulls  circled  about ;  now  and 
then  a  bolder  one  poised  itself  above  the  fishermen, 
then  dove  and  snatched  a  morsel  of  the  floating  en- 
trails. 

From  outside  the  cove  and  adown  the  rock-ribbed 
shore  of  Folly  Island  came  the  low  monotone  of  the 
ocean.  Two  rods  above  the  bent-over,  grey,  grizzled 

1 


2  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

old  man  and  just  emerging  from  a  fish-house  beside 
the  narrow  spile  wharf  was  a  young  girl,  barefoot, 
with  close-fitting,  much-soiled  and  faded  calico  dress 
which  failed  to  reach  her  browned  ankles,  and  carry- 
ing a  crate  of  brine-dripping  fish.  A  man's  soft 
brown  hat  hid  the  coils  of  her  black  hair,  her  one 
garment  was  brine-soaked  and  clinging;  outlining 
rounded  hips,  bust,  and  shoulders;  her  face  and 
hands  were  sun-tanned  and  eyes  big  and  appealing. 
For  one  moment  she  paused  to  glance  defiantly  at 
the  man  in  the  dory,  then  went  up  the  wharf,  her 
shoulders  thrown  back  to  balance  the  heavy  crate, 
and  to  a  long  fish  rack  where  she  spread  the  split 
fish.  This  done  she  returned  for  more.  At  this 
moment  her  keen  young  ears  caught  the  sound  of 
oars,  and  glancing  around  the  fish-house  saw  a  natty 
cedar  yawl  with  white-duck-clad  yachtsman  just  en- 
tering the  cove.  One,  two,  three  more,  long,  slow 
strokes  he  made  then  turned,  glanced  over  his  shoul- 
der, gave  a  fillip  to  one  oar  and  drew  alongside  the 
float.  Then  Cap'n  Jud  looked  up. 

"  Git  out  o'  sight,  gal,"  he  shouted  to  the  watch- 
ing girl,  "  don't  ye  know  ye  ain't  fit  to  be  seen  ?  " 
and  thus  commanded  she  entered  the  fish-house  just 
as  the  yachtsman  stepped  on  to  the  float. 

"  Good  morning,  Cap'n  Jud,"  he  greeted  that  man 
with  in  a  cheery  tone.  "  Have  you  any  lobsters  to 


THE   WAIF  6 

sell  ?  Little  ones,  I  mean,  '  shorts '  I  believe  you 
call  'em?" 

Cap'n  Jud  looked  up  with  a  surly  glance. 

"  I  don't  ketch  shorts,"  he  answered,  in  grouchy 
tone. 

"  But  I  want  some,"  the  younger  man  asserted, 
"  and  I'll  pay  full  price  for  'em." 

"  I  don't  save  shorts,  I  tell  ye,"  Cap'n  Jud 
growled,  "  it's  agin  the  law,"  and  he  turned  to  his 
fish-splitting  once  more. 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  about  the  law,"  the  new  arrival 
persisted,  evidently  versed  in  the  ways  of  lobster 
catchers.  "  I  don't  suppose  you  save  shorts  or  sell 
'em.  I'll  make  you  a  present  of  five  dollars,  how- 
ever, for  fifty,"  and  he  smiled  down  at  the  sulky  one. 

At  this  moment  the  girl,  Pandora-like,  peeped  out 
of  the  fish-house,  then  emerged,  and  stood  watching 
the  two  men. 

"  Here's  the  money,"  he  continued,  peeling  it 
from  a  roll  he  produced.  "  I'll  be  back  in  half  an 
hour  and  shall  expect  to  find  my  lobs  waiting  for 
me  on  this  float." 

"  Wai,  mebbe,"  grunted  Cap'n  Jud,  stepping  out 
of  his  dory  and  taking  the  money,  "  I  don't  sell 
shorts  ez  I  said,  but  per'aps  I  kin  find  ye  some." 

At  this  instant  his  eyes  rested  on  the  girl. 

"Keep  out  o'  sight,  ye  hussy,"  he  shouted  once 


4  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

more,  "  Damn  ye,  why  don't  ye  mind !  "  and  grasp- 
ing one  of  the  split  fish  he  threw  it  at  her.  It  struck 
her  on  the  bosom,  leaving  a  bloody  smooch,  and 
again  she  entered  the  fish-house,  her  face  aflame  with 
shame  and  anger. 

"  My  name's  Mason,  Mark  Mason,"  the  arriving 
one  now  declared,  ignoring  Cap'n  Jud's  conduct, 
"and  I'm  from  a  yacht  that  just  run  into  the  cove. 
I'll  see  you  later,"  and  glancing  up  to  where  the  girl 
had  vanished  once  moje,  he  turned,  cast  off  his  boat 
and  pulled  away. 

But  that  girl's  face,  her  rounded  form,  bare  feet 
and  ankles,  and  appealing  eyes,  had  been  photo- 
graphed on  his  mind. 

"  Come  out  now  'n'  go  about  yer  work,"  Cap'n 
Jud  again  shouted  to  her  in  the  same  harsh,  com- 
manding tone,  and  then  stepped  into  his  dory  and 
resumed  his  fish-splitting.  "  She's  growin'  more 
V  more  like  her  mother,  cuss  her,"  he  muttered 
looking  up  as  the  girl  appeared,  "  and  'twon't  be 
long  'fore  she'll  be  runnin'  after  men.  Ef  I'd  been 
Godamighty  I'd  'a'  made  wimmen  jist  like  men 
folks,  I  would.  Sich  ez  her  hez  the  wiles  o'  the 
devil  in  'em,  'n'  sure  to  make  trouble." 

Once  more  he  bent  forward,  seized  a  fish,  split 
it,  tossed  it  into  the  tub  with  the  same  monotonous 
motion;  once  more  his  dory  rose  and  fell  on  the 


Keep  out  o'  sig-ht,  ye  hussy  !  "  —  Page  3. 


THE    WAIF  5 

slow,  incoming  swells;  and  once  more  the  girl  lifted 
and  bent  herself  backward  from  her  burden.  But 
a  keener  sense  of  the  injustice  of  her  lot  and  a 
deeper  hatred  of  this  tyrant  grandfather  now  surged 
in  her  heart. 

Outside  the  cove,  however,  Mark  shipped  his  oars 
and  let  his  boat  ride  the  incoming  waves  while  he 
scanned  the  wharf,  the  old  wreck  forming  a  bulwark 
for  it,  the  fish-house,  and  Folly  Island.  Up  from 
the  wharf  some  fifty  rods  stood  a  long,  low  house 
built  lean-to  fashion,  with  one  roof  and  port  hole 
windows  in  the  upper  part.  To  the  right  of  this 
the  cove  narrowed  into  a  passage  two  rods  wide 
bridged  midway,  thus  forming  the  island,  a  half- 
mile  long  triangle,  rock-ribbed  and  bush-covered. 
Around  the  shore  facing  him  were  a  series  of  low 
out-jutting  cliffs  with  inlets  between  —  a  titanic 
jaw-bone,  with  menacing  teeth  against  which  the 
swells  were  dashing.  But  it  was  the  wharf  and  the 
two  actors  in  this  heartless  drama  that  now  in- 
terested Mark  most.  One  he  could  not  see,  the  other, 
the  girl,  was  bending  over  a  low  lattice  rack  spread- 
ing fish.  He  could  see  her  even  now  quite  plainly, 
and  the  round  outlines  of  her  figure  and  her  bare 
feet. 

"  You  brute,"  he  muttered,  recalling  what  he  had 
witnessed  and  the  harsh  words  hurled  at  her  by  this 


6  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

grumpy  Cap'n  Jud,  "  I'd  like  to  have  kicked  you 
into  the  sea  once  for  luck." 

Who  the  girl  was  or  what  her  relation  to  this  old 
sea-dog  he  knew  not.  Only  that  this  erstwhile  sea 
captain  and  now  fisherman  who  owned  Folly  Island 
was,  as  now  demonstrated,  a  surly  brute.  Another 
fact  also  that  was  now  unknown  to  Mark  Mason  was, 
that  upon  this  treeless,  barren,  rock-ribbed,  seldom- 
visited  island,  owned  by  Captain  Judson  Baldwin 
and  where  dwelt  his  spinster  sister,  Perth,  and  waif 
grandchild,  Myrtle  Baldwin,  there  rested  a  mort- 
gage of  one  thousand  dollars  with  ten  years  ac- 
crued interest,  nor  did  he  know  that  in  this  girl  — 
a  slave  here  almost  —  lay  the  outcome  of  a  woman's 
betrayal  by  a  bigamist. 

Toward  the  yacht,  and  unconscious  of  this  inter- 
woven complication,  Mark  now  turned  his  boat  and 
pulling  alongside  its  lowered  steps  climbed  aboard. 
Frank  and  the  five  other  young  fellows  ("  Injuns," 
Mark  called  them  all  from  their  gambling  and  Bac- 
chanalian proclivities),  were  in  the  cabin  deeply 
absorbed  in  the  almost  continuous  game  of  draw- 
poker,  the  crew  of  four  were  lazily  polishing  every- 
thing of  brass  in  sight,  while  the  skipper  reclining 
in  an  easy  chair  on  the  canopied  after-deck,  was 
smoking  and  eyeing  things  generally.  To  go  to  the 
cabin  and  take  a  look  into  it  was  Mark's  next  move, 


THE   WAIF  7 

and  as  none  of  the  absorbed  group  even  noticed  him 
by  a  glance,  he  turned  to  the  deck  again  and  took 
a  seat  beside  the  skipper. 

"  Wai,"  drawled  that  important  personage  (known 
as  Cap'n  Sim,  and  a  veteran  coaster),  "  how'd  ye 
find  Cap'n  Jud,  cranky  ez  usual  ?  " 

"  Rather,"  answered  Mark  smiling,  "  but  he  mel- 
lowed a  little  at  sight  of  money.  Do  you  know 
him?" 

"  Jest  a  leetle,"  responded  this  Yankee  skipper, 
"  he  useter  sail  the  Dolphin,  a  coaler,  V  I  met  him 
some  in  port.  RegTr  rip-snorter,  they  said,  to  his 
men  in  them  days.  Used  a  cat  on  'em  now  V  then 
and  all  that  sort.  She  fetched  up  on  Monomoy  one 
night  'bout  thirty  years  ago,  V  arter  that  I  lost 
sight  o'  him  fer  a  spell.  Heard  'bout  him  a  few 
years  ago,  'n'  how  he  bought  this  island  'n'  took  to 
fishin'.  Some  trouble,  too,  'bout  his  darter  Myrtle 
runnin'  away  soon  arter,  'n'  her  baby  bein'  left  on 
his  door-step.  Cap'n  Jud  was  also  part  owner  o' 
this  coaler  'n'  lost  everything  likewise  I  heerd,  an' 
that  'n'  'tother  trouble  follerin'  sorter  upsot  his  tem- 
per which  was  bad  'nuff  to  start  with,  I  cal'late," 
and  Cap'n  Sim  paused  to  relight  his  pipe. 

"  But  what  about  this  baby  ?  "  queried  Mark,  now 
keenly  interested  and  thinking  of  the  barefoot  girl. 
"  How  long  ago  was  this  runaway  affair?  " 


8  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

"  Oh,  'bout  twenty  years  or  so  fer  a  guess,"  re- 
turned Cap'n  Sim.  "  I  ain't  over  sartin  'bout  any 
o'  these  facts,  all  hearsay  ye  know,  'n'  I  hain't  sot 
eyes  on  Cap'n  Jud  sence  he  lost  his  vessel. 
Wouldn't  know  him  to-day  if  I  did.  Only  jist  rec'- 
lect  the  main  p'ints  o'  his  make-up,  'n'  that's  why  I 
axed  ye  if  he  was  cranky.  He  hadn't  many  friends, 
either,  'mongst  his  men,  one  viage  was  'nuff  fer 
most  on  'em  they  said,  an'  in  port  he  allus  was 
growlin'  'bout  suthin." 

"  And  didn't  you  ever  hear  why  his  daughter  ran 
away,"  interrupted  Mark,  "  or  what  became  of  her  ? 
Did  she  fetch  the  baby  back  ? " 

"  Wai,"  responded  Cap'n  Sim  after  puffing  a  cloud 
of  smoke  aloft  as  if  that  was  of  more  interest  than 
this  scandal,  "  I  guess  'twas  fer  the  same  reason 
his  men  quit  him,  cussed  crankiness.  And  I  heerd 
his  wife  died  on't,  sorter  druv  to  her  death  by  his 
tantrums  ez  it  war,  'n'  the  same  thing  started  his 
darter  off  I  was  told.  Who  fetched  the  baby  back 
I  never  heerd,  howsomever." 

And  so  a  little  of  Cap'n  Jud's  history  and  this 
abused  waifs  as  well  was  now  doled  out  by  Cap'n 
Sim.  More  of  it  than  is  here  quoted  was  also  re- 
lated by  this  keen-eyed,  old  Yankee  salt  of  retentive 
memory  and  drawling  speech,  for  he  had  been  gath- 
erer of  coast  news  of  all  sorts  and  wide-apart  loca- 


THE   WAIF  9 

tion  many  years.  And  the  more  he  told,  the  more 
Mark  realized  what  a  surly,  selfish,  bumptious,  con- 
temptible old  martinet,  scoffer,  infidel,  and  all-around 
brute  Cap'n  Jud  was;  how  his  wife  must  have  suf- 
fered, and  why  his  daughter  was  driven  away.  Also 
the  more  than  wretched  existence  this  waif  grand- 
child must  now  be  leading.  The  one  riddle  of  the 
entire  drama  was  how  and  why  this  runaway  and 
betrayed  daughter  should  have  been  so  merciless  as 
to  send  or  bring  her  child  and  leave  it  in  the  care 
of  such  a  brute.  That  was  beyond  Mark.  Mean- 
while, and  as  the  sun  neared  the  zenith  and  the  day 
grew  hotter,  he  watched  this  girl  still  at  her  work  in 
the  blinding,  sizzling  heat.  At  last  Cap'n  Jud 
emerged  from  beyond  the  wreck  and  fish-house  and 
bent  and  bowed  a  little,  made  his  way  up  to  his 
dwelling,  the  girl  soon  followed,  and  then  Mark  be- 
thinking himself  of  his  short  lobsters,  pulled  ashore 
and  found  them  awaiting  him  on  the  wharf. 


CHAPTER  II 

MARK  MASON 

MARK  MASON  was  a  young  man  of  the  world; 
genial,  generous,  kindly,  a  lover  of  Nature  and  the 
beautiful,  easily  touched  by  the  troubles  of  others, 
forgiving  of  their  shortcomings  and  a  half-poet  when 
amid  poetic  surroundings.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
was  a  confirmed  cynic,  distrustful  of  all  human  as- 
sertions, a  doubter  of  scriptural  claims,  yet  a  be- 
liever in  religious  influence,  lazily  indifferent  to 
woman's  charms  and  keen  at  money-making.  In 
short,  a  well  poised  man  of  thirty  who  had  been  in 
touch  with  both  the  under  and  upper  crust  of  life 
without  being  harmed  by  either,  and  meantime,  had 
garnered  enough  of  this  world's  goods  to  live  mod- 
estly upon  his  income.  He  was  also  what  may  be 
called  an  institution  product.  That  is,  he  was  one 
of  those  unfortunates  who,  never  knowing  who  his 
parents  were,  take  the  first  steps  in  life  at  an  or- 
phanage. From  this  and  at  the  age  of  ten,  Mark 
was  transplanted  to  Good  Will  Farm  —  a  noble 
philanthropy  the  State  of  Maine  can  feel  proud  to 

10 


MAEK    MASON  11 

have  within  her  borders  —  and  here  under  the  care- 
ful guidance  of  Rev.  George  W.  Hinckley,  Mark 
learned  the  ordinary  book  lessons  and  the  better  ones 
of  honesty,  frugality,  gratitude,  and  self-reliance, 
together  with  something  of  veneration  for  his  Cre- 
ator. 

There  was  also  a  mysterious  woman  connected 
with  his  transition  from  the  orphan  asylum  to  Good 
Will  Farm.  He  could  recall  seeing  her  at  the  first- 
named  place,  a  well  gowned  and  veiled  lady  who 
he  was  told  called  to  learn  what  steps  were  neces- 
sary to  secure  the  right  of  a  child's  removal.  She 
again  appeared  at  the  latter  institution  a  year  after 
Mark's  advent  there,  to  be  courteously  shown  its 
methods,  management,  and  how  the  philanthropic 
work  was  carried  on.  It  was  only  a  brief  call,  how- 
ever, on  one  of  the  usual  visiting  days,  and  she  re- 
mained veiled  as  before.  Neither  did  she  apparently 
notice  Mark  more  than  any  other  of  the  fifty-odd 
boys  and  girls  then  there.  Only  when  she  was 
ready  to  depart  —  and  this  was  the  astounding  fact 
—  she  handed  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hinckley  a  package  with 
a  request  not  to  open  it  until  the  next  Christmas  day. 
When  that  arrived  three  months  later,  the  packet 
was  found  to  contain  ten  one  hundred  dollar  bills 
in  an  envelope  addressed  "  For  Good  Will  Farm," 
also  a  savings  bank  book  bearing  the  name  of  Mark 


12  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

Master  Mason  and  containing  the  same  sum  with 
request  it  be  given  him  at  the  age  of  twenty-one! 

Never  afterwards  was  she  seen  at  the  farm. 
Later  inquiries  at  this  savings  bank  were  fruitless 
except  for  the  receiving  teller's  admission  that  a 
veiled  lady  made  the  deposit,  and  so  Mark  Mason 
(the  name  he  used  for  simplicity  and  to  separate 
himself  from  this  mysterious  connection),  started 
life's  battle  with  more  means  than  most  boys  handi- 
capped by  the  bar  sinister.  When  he  left  Good 
Will  Farm  at  eighteen  it  was  to  take  a  position  as 
stock  clerk  in  a  wholesale  woolen  house  in  a  near-by 
city,  that  came  to  him  unsolicited  —  also  a  myste- 
rious fact  He  graduated  from  that  in  two  years, 
to  a  travelling  salesman's  life,  followed  that  eye- 
opening,  "  on  the  road  "  vocation  seven  more  and 
then  "  struck  it  rich."  That  is,  he  saw  a  chance  to 
make  some  money,  had  the  courage  to  try  for  it,  and 
succeeded. 

He  had  been  sent  to  Texas  the  year  previous  to 
the  celebrated  Brown-Sully  cotton-cornering  episode, 
there  learned  the  inside  facts  regarding  the  boll 
weevil  injury  to  the  cotton  crop,  and  returning 
first  consulted  his  good  friend  Hinckley,  then  drew 
his  heritage  and  accrued  interest  from  the  bank, 
added  all  his  savings  and  back  salary  to  that  fund 
and  bought  cotton  futures  on  a  margin.  It  was  a 


MARK    MASON  13 

gamble  pure  and  simple  and  one  not  advisable  to 
follow  in  one  case  out  of  a  hundred.  But  it  won 
out  in  Mark's  case,  for  he  was  betting  on  the  actual 
conditions  that  he  knew  existed,  and  in  three  short 
months  his  holdings  showed  a  net  profit  of  over  fifty 
thousand  dollars.  Then  with  more  wisdom  than 
most  margin  gamblers,  he  sold  out,  quit  the  game, 
invested  his  money  in  good  securities,  forgot  the  cot- 
ton market  and  kept  on  selling  woolens.  His  ac- 
quaintance with  this  Frank  Goodnow  —  a  rich 
young  spendthrift  and  happy-go-lucky  Lothario  — 
came  about  during  Mark's  three  months'  orgie  in  the 
cotton  market,  the  fellows  with  Frank  were  club 
friends  of  both,  yet  none  really  intimate  with  Mark ; 
he  merely  joining  the  party  to  have  a  vacation. 
Neither  had  Mark  any  home  or  ties  of  any  kind  ex- 
cept what  drew  him  to  Good  Will  Farm,  and  Thanks- 
giving and  Christmas  days  always  found  him  there, 
a  welcome  guest  in  the  Hinckley  home.  And  so 
life  had  resolved  itself  into  a  successful  and  fairly 
happy  one  for  Mark,  barring  the  unfortunate  fact 
of  his  origin  and  the  incessant  and  always  vexing 
hope  that  he  might  some  day  learn  who  the  veiled  lady 
was  and  what  was  the  reason  for  her  interest  in 
him.  He  had  no  clues,  and  felt  that  none  were  likely 
to  be  obtained  by  him.  All  he  knew  was  that  some 
well-to-do  woman  had  shaped  and  directed  his  life 


tt'4J  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

from  babyhood  up,  and  wisely,  too;  but  who,  why, 
and  for  what  reason  (except  a  shameful  one),  was  a 
mystery,  dark,  and  sinister,  and  likely  to  remain  so. 

And  that  feeling  and  its  influence  were  the  main 
reasons  why  Mark  had  early  learned  the  wisdom  of 
keeping  all  his  own  affairs  to  himself. 

And  now;  ashore  on  the  little  float  where  this 
Cap'n  Jud  had  left  his  purchase  of  short  lobsters, 
with  a  brief  outline  of  that  irascible  man's  history 
and  a  suggestion  of  who  this  handsome  young  fisher- 
girl  might  be;  Mark  felt  a  new  mystery  had  been 
disclosed  to  him  and  a  keen  interest  to  follow  it. 
And  why  not  ?  The  girl  had  caught  his  eyes  and 
sympathy  both  within  two  minutes,  and  Mark  now 
began  to  feel  himself  almost  a  knight  errant  called 
upon,  not  to  defend  and  rescue  her  as  yet,  but  to 
find  out  who  she  was  and  what  her  life  here  had 
been. 

His  first  step,  now  that  the  chance  offered,  was  to 
look  about  this  landing  spot,  and  there  was  much  to 
interest  him  as  well.  The  wharf;  a  narrow  make- 
shift affair  built  from  bits  of  wreckage  and  resting 
on  rocks  and  barnacled  spiles,  sloped  up  from  the 
float.  At  its  shore  end  and  partly  resting  on  a 
boulder  stood  the  fish-house;  outside  that  the  gaping 
ribs  and  keel  of  the  wreck  whose  deck  and  side- 
sheathing  had  doubtless  been  used  for  the  wharf,  and 


MAEK    MASON  15 

all  about  were  evidences  of  the  same  makeshift 
utility.  A  fish  rack  alongside  the  cove  and  also 
resting  on  rocks  was  built  from  wreckage.  A  pile 
of  rusty  anchor  chain  and  an  anchor  lay  near  it. 
Back  of  that  stood  a  huge  net  reel  with  net  wound 
upon  it.  An  iron  kettle  held  in  position  between 
rocks  stood  near  the  fish-house  half  full  of  ill- 
smelling  oil.  Fallen-apart  barrels  were  scattered 
near,  and  in  the  fish-house  were  tubs  of  split  fish  in 
pickle.  Lobster  pots,  mostly  with  missing  slats, 
were  scattered  all  about,  an  overturned  dory  reposed 
high  up  on  the  shore,  and  the  entire  confusion  of 
wreck  and  tangle  of  rocks,  fish-house,  and  the  flotsam 
and  jetsam  of  a  fisherman's  calling  smelled  worse 
than  fishy. 

All  this  Mark  saw  in  a  ten-minutes'  inspection, 
and  its  disclosure  was  one  of  poverty  and  the  evi- 
dences of  slothful  indifference.  Then  he  took  hia 
box  of  lobsters  and  rowed  back  to  the  yacht. 

It  was  mid-day,  ere  Mark,  watching  from  the 
yacht,  noticed  any  signs  of  life  on  the  island,  then 
he  saw  Cap'n  Jud  leave  the  house,  go  to  the  wharf, 
launch  his  dory,  and  pull  away  to  seaward.  A  lit- 
tle later  the  girl  came  down  and  began  turning  the 
fish  on  the  racks.  Mark,  more  interested  now,  as- 
cended to  the  yacht's  pilot  house  and  watched  her 
with  the  skipper's  binocular.  He  could  see  her 


16  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

quite  distinctly,  too,  still  garbed  as  before.  Also 
that  she  oft  paused  in  her  work  to  look  at  the  yacht. 
A  half-hour  of  this,  then  dinner  was  announced  and 
Mark  went  below. 

It  was  two  hours  ere  he  thought  of  the  girl  again, 
for  after  dinner  the  inevitable  game  of  draw  was 
soon  started  between  the  rest  of  the  party  with 
Mark,  as  usual,  a  complaisant  observer,  and  it  was 
mid-afternoon  before  he  came  on  deck  again. 

And  now  the  sea  in  repose,  was  like  a  vast,  un- 
dulating mirror,  reflecting  the  sun's  yellow  glow  with 
a  fringe  of  white  wave-wash  outlining  the  near  shore 
of  Folly  Island. 

And  the  girl  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

Once  more  Mark,  glancing  at  the  skipper  fast 
asleep  in  a  hammock,  entered  the  pilot  house  and 
swept  the  island  with  the  glass.  A  long,  careful 
scrutiny  and  then  a  small  flock  of  gulls  circling  about 
one  spot  on  the  further  shore  of  the  island  caught 
his  attention.  They  were  evidently  finding  some- 
thing of  unusual  interest  there  as  they  wheeled  about 
or  poised  an  instant  in  mid-air  to  dive  down  to  the 
shore  and  their  shrill  cries  reached  Mark  above  the 
low  wave-wash.  And  now,  impelled  by  an  occult  in- 
tuition he  could  never  afterwards  quite  account  for, 
Mark  stole  quietly  away  from  the  yacht  and  pulled 
ashore  once  more.  No  one  was  at  the  landing. 


MARK   MASON  IT 

Cap'n  Jiid's  big  dory  was  also  gone,  and  as  Mark 
made  his  yawl  fast  and  stepped  out  and  up  the 
wharf,  only  the  more  pronounced  fishy  smell,  the 
swarm  of  flies  about  the  fish  house,  and  the  gaunt 
rib  bones  of  the  old  wreck  greeted  him.  Then  on 
'past  the  long  fish  rack,  now  adding  to  the  odor  by 
its  burden  of  drying  cod,  and  up  the  winding  path 
he  strode.  Half  way  to  the  low  brown  house  ahead 
of  him  he  halted  for  a  careful  look,  but  no  one  was 
visible.  He  noted  its  weather-beaten  shabbiness  — 
this  story-and-a-half  turkey  coop,  almost  —  with  here 
and  there  a  clapboard  missing  and  one  or  two  squares 
of  board  doing  duty  for  absent  window  panes.  A 
ship's  figure-head,  once  green,  was  perched  over  the 
open  door.  An  old  brown  dory,  earth-filled,  in 
which  were  blooming  flowers,  lay  alongside  the  house 
front.  To  the  right,  a  little  outbuilding  of  stone- 
wall and  wreck-roof  construction,  with  a  few  hens 
idling  about  it.  To  the  left,  a  wall-enclosed  garden 
with  wall  half-hid  by  green,  growing  vines,  and  at 
one  corner  of  the  house  a  ship's  top-mast  rising  from 
a  mound  of  stones.  For  five  minutes  Mark  conned 
this  quaint,  unique,  and  half-pathetic  abode,  surmis- 
ing that  its  inmates  must  be  asleep  on  the  hot  sum- 
mer afternoon,  then  he  sheered  off  from  the  well- 
trodden  path  until  just  below  the  garden  he  came  to 
another,  and  in  a  hollow  below  an  open  well  with 


18  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

its  pole  and  rusty-tin-pail.  A  moment's  glance  at 
this  make-shift  evidence  of  human  existence,  with 
its  enclosing  circle  of  rank  growing  grass  and  green 
sedge,  and  Mark  strolled  on  following  a  faintly  out- 
lined path  down  the  island.  This  soon  vanished 
also,  and  then  perforce  he  began  to  pick  his  way 
among  a  tangle  of  rocks,  hayberry  bushes,  scrub 
spruce,  and  Mohawk  briars.  A  hundred  rods  of 
this,  and  he  came  to  a  hollow  and  in  it  a  half-acre 
lakelet  or  pond,  white  with  blooming  water  lilies,  and 
around  half  of  which  arose  a  fringing  wall  of  cat- 
tails. Near  this  also  stood  a  cow  watching  him 
with  solemn,  curious  eyes.  From  here  he  could  see 
the  flock  of  gulls,  quite  near,  though  over  on  the 
further  side  of  the  island  and  still  in  evident  ex- 
citement. Toward  them  he  now  slowly  advanced, 
pausing  occasionally  to  study  the  rock-ribbed  con- 
figuration of  this  inhospitable  island  or  scan  the 
smoothly  undulating  ocean  about  it.  He  was  in  no 
hurry.  His  time  was  all  his  own.  He  had  come 
ashore  merely  on  a  curiosity  quest  and  to  see  what 
manner  of  spot  this  island  was. 

It  was  a  not  over  promising  one  for  any  known 
or  unknown  purpose  except  it  be  to  find  solitude, 
and  of  that  Mark  now  felt  there  was  an  ample  sup- 
ply. He  even  halted  to  enjoy  a  little  of  it  from  the 


MABK    MASON  19 

top  of  a  broad,  flat  boulder  on  a  hillock  and  here 
with  back  to  the  sun  he  seated  himself  and  lit  a 
cigar.  Only  for  a  moment,  for  Old  Sol  was  aggres- 
sive, did  the  spray  tossing  up  on  the  point  suggest 
a  bit  of  breeze  there,  and  Mark  strolled  on.  And 
now  near  the  lower  end  of  the  island  and  in  an  em- 
brasure overlooking  the  ocean,  he  came  upon  a  queer 
little  half-open  stone  hut  or  rather  shed.  It  was 
perhaps  six  feet  in  height  and  five  in  diameter, 
built  of  flat  stones  and  roofed  over  with  bits  of 
wreckage.  On  top  of  this  and  overlapping  the  en- 
tire structure  were  broad  strips  of  copper  sheath- 
ing, doubtless  from  some  wreck,  and  green  from 
exposure,  while  an  outer  wall  of  sods,  grass-grown, 
closed  the  back  and  side  chinks  of  the  stone  walls. 
It  was  a  most  unique  hut,  a  playhouse  evidently, 
for  as  Mark  peeped  in  the  half-open  side,  he  saw  lit- 
tle shelves  out-jutting  from  the  walls  and  on  them 
a  museum,  almost,  of  shells  and  sea  curios.  There 
were  in  addition  to  every  sort  of  shell  known  to  this 
coast,  dried  star-fish  of  all  sizes,  sailor's  money 
purses,  shells  of  all  kinds  of  crabs,  bits  of  glass 
and  many-colored  pebbles.  Lobster  claws  of  various 
sizes  stuck  out  from  chinks  in  the  walls,  the  floor 
was  entirely  paved  with  grey  and  white  pebbles  worn 
smooth  by  the  sea  waves,  an  old  arm  chair,  minus 


20  MYETLB  BALDWIN 

the  back  spindles,  stood  in  one  corner,  near  it  was 
a  box  with  open  side  and  divided  by  a  shelf.  In 
this  lay  several  books. 

For  fully  five  minutes  Mark  stood  looking  into 
this  curious,  half-pathetic,  and  altogether  interesting 
little  cubby-house,  out  of  which  the  low  monotone 
of  the  near-by  ocean  seemed  to  echo,  and  then  he 
stepped  inside  and  picked  up  one  of  the  books. 

It  was  "  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs  "  ! 

For  a  moment  he  glanced  over  its  old-style  print 
and  grewsome  pictures.  Then  he  returned  it  to  its 
shelf  and  took  up  another.  That  was  a  later  work, 
"The  Toilers  of  the  Sea,"  by  Victor  Hugo.  Two 
other  books  were  in  this  tiny  library,  both  as  in- 
congruous to  the  spot  and  Folly  Island,  for  one  was 
"  Strathmore,"  by  Ouida,  the  other  a  well-thumbed 
copy  of  Longfellow's  poems.  The  wide-apart  tone 
and  tenor  of  these  works  made  Mark  smile.  Only 
for  a  moment,  however,  for  the  bid-away  location 
of  this  queer,  big-child  playhouse  held  his  attention 
and  touched  his  feelings,  as  naught  else  could. 

"  It's  the  doings  of  that  girl  I  saw,"  he  mused 
as  he  emerged  and  faced  about  to  look  at  it  once 
more.  "And  it's  evident  she  has  no  companions 
to  share  her  solitude.  She  must  be  of  some  mental 
scope  however.  But  *  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs '  1 


MARK    MASON  21 

Ye  Gods!     And  to  read  that  here  where  the  sea  is 
forever  moaning !  " 

For  another  five  minutes  Mark  stood  watching 
this  odd  and  pathetic  bit  of  handiwork  that  must 
have  consumed  many  days  in  its  construction,  noted 
Avhere  creeping  vines  had  recently  been  planted 
around  the  base  of  the  sod  wall,  and  then  turned 
away.  And  now  some  fifty  rods  above  this  hut, 
on  the  coast,  he  once  more  noticed  the  flock  of  gulls 
circling  about  and  diving  down  behind  a  cliff.  To 
this  he  now  hastened  and  then  going  more  slowly 
and  crouching  as  he  neared  its  top,  so  as  not  to  scare 
the  birds,  he  saw  the  cause  of  their  clamor,  for  seated 
in  a  niche  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  narrow  rock- 
walled  cove  was  this  same  girl  he  had  noticed  that 
morning,  just  tossing  a  fish  head  out  on  the  water 
and  watching  the  gulls  fight  for  it.  He  could  see 
her  now  close  to,  clad  in  faded  calico  and  bare- 
headed, the  soft  felt  hat  beside  her  on  the  rock, 
face  sun-tanned,  big  black  eyes,  and  one  bare  brown 
foot  and  ankle  peeping  out  from  beneath  her  dress. 
He  could  see  too,  her  full  rounded  bust  and  fine 
shoulders  outlined  distinctly,  a  smile  at  the  gulls' 
antics  disclosing  her  white  teeth,  and  all  in  all,  a 
romantic  and  pretty  picture.  To  crouch  thus  and 
watch  her  he  felt  was  unfair  yet  irresistible,  and 


22  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

so  for  a  few  moments  he  did  this.  Then  he  arose, 
the  girl  saw  him,  and  with  a  little  cry  of  fear  sprang 
to  her  feet  and  stared  at  him  with  wide-open  fright- 
ened eyes. 


CHAPTER  III 

A    HERITAGE    OF    SHAME 

CAP'N  Jui>  had  never  been  popular  at  Sandy  Bay 
or  even  welcome,  and  that  village's  dislike  began  the 
day  of  his  arrival  on  Barney  McCann's  ancient 
carryall  —  the  sole  connection  between  that  fishing 
port  and  civilization. 

"  Be  gob,  but  the  looks  o'  that  man  'ud  sour 
milk/'  Barney  observed  soon  after  to  Amos  Orton, 
who  owned  the  one  general  store  and  post  office, 
"  and  spakin'  about  kickers,  be  me  sowl  I'm  thinkin' 
he'd  kick  if  he  war  dead.  He  dom'd  me  horse  V 
wagon  'fore  we'd  gone  a  mile,  an'  ivery  hill  we  come 
to;  he  dom'd  the  flies,  the  sun,  the  sand,  an*  he 
dom'd  me,  begorra,  for  not  spakin'  an'  answerin' 
to  all  his  kicks !  An'  thin  I  did.  1 1  dunno  who  ye 
be,'  I  sed,  '  an'  I  don't  care  a  dom,  but  be  gob  ye 
have  a  timper  like  red  pepper,  so  ye  hov.  An'  I 
didn't  ax  ye  to  ride,'  sez  I,  '  an'  if  ye  don't  like  me 
an'  me  hoss  ye'd  better  git  out  an'  walk,  an'  good 
riddance  to  ye,'  sez  I." 

23 


24  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  (  Be  ye  paid  fer  bein'  sassy,'  says  he,  glarin'  at 
me." 

"  i  I  ain't  paid  fer  nothin'  yit,'  sez  I,  '  not  even 
fer  yer  ride  an'  I  ain't  shure  I  will  be,'  an'  then 
he  shut  up." 

This  tirade,  repeated  by  Barney  again  that  even- 
ing in  the  store  and  before  Sandy  Bay's  Old  Guard 
usually  gathered  there,  was  the  key  note  of  Cap'n 
Jud's  name  and  fame,  and  all  his  future  acts  only 
served  to  increase  his  ill-repute.  His  first  visit 
there  was  also  brief  and  its  result  the  purchase  of 
Folly  Island,  a  worthless  tangle  of  rocks  and  scrub 
spruce,  from  Jason  Lee.  The  one  semi-redeeming 
feature  of  this  investment  of  two  hundred  dollars 
was  that  it  gave  Jason,  a  worthless  sot  and  lazy  fish- 
erman combined,  the  means  to  pay  up  at  Orton's 
store  and  have  enough  left  for  a  month-long  drunk. 
What  Cap'n  Jud  wanted  of  Folly  Island  did  not 
then  transpire.  Later,  when  he  again  appeared, 
hired  a  man  and  erected  an  oddly  shaped  dwelling 
upon  his  purchase,  it  dawned  on  Sandy  Bay  that 
they  were  to  have  him  for  a  neighbor.  Still  later 
when  he  brought  thither  his  "  wimmen  folks,"  con- 
sisting of  a  spinster  sister,  Perth,  and  comely  grown- 
up daughter,  Myrtle,  and  took  up  his  abode  on  Folly 
Island,  that  surmise  was  verified.  In  the  interim 
it  had  been  learned  by  Sandy  Bayites  that  he  was 


A    HEEITAGE    OF    SHAME  25 

formerly  captain  and  part  owner  of  a  coaster,  had 
met  shipwreck  and  loss  of  all,  including  that  of  his 
wife,  later,  and  that  he  had  achieved  the  reputation 
(verified  by  Barney)  of  being  a  surly  tyrant  on  ship- 
board, a  soured,  misanthropic,  all-around  grumbler 
and  sceptic  combined.  It  was  also  whispered  in 
Sandy  Bay  that  this  loss  of  his  vessel  on  Cape  Cod 
during  a  calm,  foggy  night  was  the  outcome  of  a 
feud  between  himself  and  his  first  mate.  But  this 
did  not  concern  Sandy  Bay,  and  had  Cap'n  Jud 
shown  any  disposition  to  be  neighborly  and  civil 
most  of  this  would  have  been  forgiven.  But  he  did 
not  and  was  ignored  accordingly. 

Other  causes  for  dislike  came  later.  His  daugh- 
ter departed  one  day  in  Barney's  carryall;  confid- 
ing to  him  that  she  meant  never  to  return  to  Folly 
Island  but  giving  no  reason  why.  Reasons  were 
easily  surmised,  however.  Cap'n  Jud  made  no  ex- 
planation of  it,  though;  in  fact  he  always  had  held 
and  continued  to  hold  himself  aloof  from  Sandy 
Bay  except  in  connection  with  the  fewest  business 
transactions  possible.  And  then,  two  years  later, 
came  the  one  most  astounding  scandal  Sandy  Bay 
had  ever  known  when  it  was  learned  that  a  baby 
had  arrived  at  Folly  Island  and  was  being  cared  for 
by  Cap'n  Jud's  sister!  Whose  it  was  was  guessed 
at  once,  but  how  it  came  there  was  a  mystery  be- 


26  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

yond  all.  That  was  of  scant  interest  however,  the 
one  pertinent  fact  was  the  baby  itself,  and  that  Cap'n 
Jud's  harsh  treatment  of  his  daughter  had  driven 
her  away  with  this  outcome.  That  also  resulted  in 
keeping  him  away  from  Sandy  Bay  more  than  ever 
and  in  his  making  Dark  Harbor,  another  fishing  vil- 
lage four  miles  from  Folly  Island,  the  base  of  his 
supplies. 

But  this  waif  throve  and  grew  in  spite  of  the 
"  bar  sinister,"  Cap'n  Jud's  evil  temper,  and  her 
hopeless,  helpless  lot.  In  time  also  she  appeared  at 
Orton's  store  with  this  Aunt  Perth,  a  little  calico- 
clad,  black-eyed  tot  to  whom  even  Sandy  Bay  was 
a  new  wonder-world.  Still  later  she  arrived  alone 
at  the  opening  of  the  fall  school  term  and  began 
her  progress  up  the  hill  of  knowledge.  She  was 
exemplary,  obedient,  timid  to  a  degree,  made  friends 
with  other  children,  and  all  went  well  until  she  (as 
she  inevitably  would  be)  was  informed  of  her  shame- 
ful origin  and  made  to  feel  its  stain.  After  that 
poor  Myrtle  —  that  name  she  bore  —  became  more 
shy,  and  the  older  she  grew  the  more  she  held  her- 
self aloof  from  her  mates.  Only  one  of  them,  a 
girl  two  years  older  and  the  daughter  of  Jason  Lee, 
kept  intimate  with  her,  and  just  why,  is  as  unac- 
countable as  the  formation  of  any  schoolmate  friend- 
ship. But  Lucinda,  or  "  Cindy,"  a  blue-eyed,  im- 


A    HERITAGE    OF    SHAME  27 

pulsive  lass,  who  appeared  to  have  inherited  her 
father's  stock  of  oaths  and  who  got  whipped  for  re- 
peating them,  became  Myrtle's  one  best  friend  even 
to  the  extent  of  using  said  cuss-words  in  her  defense 
later  on. 

In  due  time  also  Myrtle  attained  the  age  of 
children's  parties  and  now  again  more  than  ever 
was  she  made  to  feel  her  status  in  life.  By  now 
also,  her  pride  began  to  rebel  and  the  "  if-you-don't- 
want-me-I-don't-want-you "  feeling  to  crop  out  as 
an  influence.  Her  clothing,  always  the  simplest  and 
poorest  possible,  became  a  factor  as  well,  and  she 
and  Cindy  (much  alike  in  this  respect)  to  be  com- 
panions in  raiment  isolation.  Church-going  as  Myr- 
tle grew  up,  was  likewise  not  for  her  for  the  same 
reason,  with  the  added  one  that  nobody  ever  in- 
vited her  to  attend.  There  was  also  a  reason  for 
this,  for  Sandy  Bay  was  very  orthodox;  those  who 
were  in  its  one  church  fold  were  firm  believers  in 
close  communion;  that  sins  of  the  parents  shall  be 
visited  upon  the  children  even  unto  the  fourth  gen- 
eration, and  that  what's  bred  in  the  bone  will  ap- 
pear in  the  flesh.  Also  that  poor  Myrtle ;  a  parent- 
less  waif,  was  a  living,  pertinent  example  of  sin, 
and  the  devil's  doings.  The  course  of  reasoning  up 
to  this  conclusion  with  them  was  like  two  and  two 
make  four,  and  as  undeniable.  Cap'n  Jud,  to  be- 


28  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

gin  with,  was  an  infidel,  scoffer  at  all  good  things, 
and  desecrator  of  the  Sabbath,  besides  being  ill-tem- 
pered and  selfish.  Proof  number  one.  His  off- 
spring, inheriting  the  same  evil  impulses,  had  run 
away  to  embrace  the  flesh  and  the  devil,  and  to  show 
her  defiance  of  law  and  gospel,  had  sent  its  fruits 
back  to  Folly  Island.  Proof  number  two.  Her 
child,  sulky  and  sullen,  with  eyes  perpetually  sus- 
picious and  fearsome,  was  one  more  link  in  this 
evil  chain  and  therefore  to  be  avoided.  And  so  she 
was.  And  for  that  reason  other  children  —  quick 
to  catch  their  parents'  opinions  —  also  avoided  her. 
Worse  than  that,  the  older  she  grew  —  and  the 
more  handsome  as  well  —  the  more  certain  they 
were  that  she  would  in  due  time  follow  her 
mother's  steps.  A  little  pity  was  intermingled 
with  this  merciless  conclusion,  for  by  the  time 
Myrtle  was  twelve  a  few  had  bethought  themselves 
of  trying  to  Christianize  her;  one  woman  even  ask- 
ing Aunt  Perth  why  she  did  not  come  to  church 
and  bring  the  girl;  only  to  be  told  that  it  was  out 
of  the  question  for  the  reason  Cap'n  Jud  would  not 
allow  it ;  and  so  that  door  was  shut.  In  fact,  as  al- 
ways in  this  world,  no  doors  were  opened  to  a  girl  of 
her  origin  and  probable  future,  except  those  she 
would  best  not  enter,  and  Cindy's  was  of  that  order. 
The  natural  gravitation  of  these  two  toward  one 


A    HERITAGE    OF    SHAME  29 

another  as  they  grew  up  had  also  prejudiced  Sandy 
Bay  against  Myrtle,  and  for  the  same  congenital  rea- 
sons. First,  Cindy's  father  had  married  a  woman 
of  low  birth,  both  addicted  to  drink.  Two  chil- 
dren had  been  the  result  of  this,  the  elder,  Cindy, 
an  exact  picture  of  her  mother,  the  other,  a  girl  also, 
was  unlike  either  parent  and  so  of  course  did  not 
count  in  the  chain.  This  one,  Mary  Lee,  younger 
than  Cindy,  had  assumed  charge  of  the  Lee  home 
after  the  mother  passed  on  and  in  opposition  to 
Sandy  Bay's  ideas  of  proper  sequence.  Then, 
later,  Mary  had  shown  herself  better  behaved  than 
Cindy  in  trying  to  keep  their  poor  home  in  order, 
.attending  church,  and  pleading  with  her  father  to 
abstain  from  drink,  while  Cindy  only  laughed  at 
him,  and  by  the  time  Myrtle  left  school,  had  begun 
to  consort  with  young  men  of  scant  moral  character. 
But  the  intimacy  between  Myrtle  and  Cindy  was 
kept  up,  nevertheless,  and  while  the  roystering  young 
fishermen  were  not  parties  to  it  as  yet,  Sandy  Bay 
believed  they  would  be  in  due  time.  It  was  a  case 
of  "  birds  of  a  feather  "  beyond  question,  and  while 
the  wings  of  one  —  Myrtle  —  were  not  yet  soiled, 
it  was  a  presupposed  and  inevitable  outcome  that 
they  must  be. 

But    all    this    sinister    rating    was    unknown    to 
Myrtle.     Cindy  had  been  the  only  one  she  could  con- 


30  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

fide  in  and  obtain  love  from  at  school,  the  only 
friend  who  ever  defended  her  from  sneers  or  ten- 
dered her  sympathy  in  misfortune,  or  lack  of  suit- 
able clothing.  These  reasons  —  ample  enough,  also 
— 'kept  the  two  in  friendship  in  spite  of  all  gossip, 
and  this  continued  after  Myrtle  left  school  and  took 
up  her  life  of  drudgery  on  Folly  Island.  Neither 
was  Myrtle  cognizant  of  the  evil  name  Cindy  soon 
attained,  and  when  it  was  hinted  at  to  her,  which 
was  seldom,  she  in  turn  was  ready  to  defend  one 
who  had  been  her  friend. 

There  was  no  consolation  in  Myrtle's  later  life, 
either,  for  Aunt  Perth,  mortally  afraid  of  her 
brother  and  dependent  upon  him  for  food,  shelter, 
and  everything,  dared  not  say  her  soul  was  her  own 
and  beyond  that  felt  somewhat  as  he  did  regarding 
the  shame  and  scandal  which  had  been  forced  upon 
them.  She  pitied  the  helpless  waif,  of  course  —  a 
woman  must.  She  had  cared  for  her  and  brought 
her  up  as  best  she  could,  made  clothes  for  her, 
taught  her,  and  fulfilled  a  mother's  part  in  all  pos- 
sible ways.  She  loved  her  also  in  a  timid,  silent 
way;  would  have  been  more  outspoken  in  it  had 
she  dared;  but  to  interfere  between  her  and  Cap'n 
Jud,  to  try  to  overcome  his  dislike,  hatred  in  fact, 
and  defend  Myrtle  against  his  fits  of  temper  was 
beyond  her. 


A   HERITAGE    OF    SHAME  31 

Neither  had  Cap'n  Jud  ever  admitted  any  kinship 
to  Myrtle  in  word  or  deed.  She  called  him  Grand- 
father and  he  answered  to  it.  He  called  her 
"  Mert "  or  "  Here  you "  with  a  snarl  and  she 
obeyed  in  fear  and  trembling,  and  that  was  about 
the  measure  of  their  relations.  ~No  interest  in  her 
was  shown  by  him.  She  was  on  his  hands  that  was 
all,  to  be  fed,  clothed,  schooled  a  little,  endured  all 
the  time,  and  set  to  work  as  soon  as  old  enough. 
And  so  she  grew  up  unloved,  not  wanted,  barely 
tolerated,  and  conscious  of  her  shameful  birth  at  all 
times,  or  as  soon  as  old  enough  to  realize  what  birth 
meant.  And  this,  briefly  outlined,  was  the  position 
of  Myrtle  Baldwin  on  Eolly  Island  that  summer 
morn  when  Mark  Mason  saw  her  so  grossly  insulted 
and  demeaned  before  his  very  eyes. 

How  Cap'n  Jud  felt  towards  her  can  easily  be 
determined.  From  the  very  moment  he  first  saw 
her  a  babe  well  wrapped  in  an  oblong  basket  on  his 
doorstep,  and  just  opening  her  eyes  to  the  morning 
sun,  he  had  felt  to  curse  her.  The  little  card  in- 
scribed "  Call  her  Myrtle  "  and  her  big  black  eyes 
—  his  own  daughter's  exactly  —  had  told  the  shame- 
ful tale  in  an  instant,  and  from  that  moment  on  he 
had  hated  the  burden  thus  thrust  upon  him. 

And  what  Cap'n  Jud  hated  was  abhorred  with 
deep,  undying,  persistent,  and  despicable  hate. 


32  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

From  his  own  viewpoint  —  as  from  that  of  many 
another  arrogant  brute,  misnamed  man  —  his  pecul- 
iar, selfish,  cynical,  harshness  had  no  bearing  on 
that  trouble  at  all  or  on  his  daughter's  conduct. 
The  only  personage  he  believed  in  was  the  devil. 
A  woman's  beauty  always  had  been  and  always 
would  be  Satan's  chance  to  wreck  souls.  The  Gar- 
den of  Eden  fable  —  so  considered  by  him  —  had 
been  the  first  historic  one,  and  from  that  time  on- 
ward his  Satanic  Majesty  had  kept  the  game  go- 
ing. Worse  than  that,  he  also  believed  that  all  grace 
and  intellectual  charm  in  woman  was  in  the  same 
line  and  given  with  the  same  intent,  to  lure  men 
for  the  devil's  purpose. 

But  "  God's  dice  are  always  loaded." 
No  man  can  hate  except  he  reap  hatred.  No  man 
can  strike  another  but  that  the  uncurled  lash  will 
smite  him  in  due  time.  No  wrong,  no  injustice  can 
be  meted  out  to  another  without  a  penalty  follow- 
ing. Yet  this  Cap'n  Jud ;  this  brute  in  human  form 
was,  in  so  hating  and  maltreating  a  helpless,  hapless 
waif,  only  tossing  the  dice  of  Fate  against  a  Power 
he  no  more  comprehended  than  he  did  why  the  tides 
ebbed  and  flowed  or  luck  had  always  seemed  against 
him.  Neither  did  he  realize  that  the  money  he 
once  borrowed  from  a  rich  ship  owner  on  the  worth- 
less security  of  Folly  Island  —  and  never  meant  to 


A    HERITAGE    OF    SHAME  33 

pay  back  —  would  sometime  become  a  Nemesis ;  or 
that  this  genial,  jaunty,  young  yachtsman  who  came 
ashore  to  buy  lobsters  of  him  would  prove  another. 

There  was  still  one  more  force  at  work  to  undo 
and  punish  Cap'n  Jud  which  he  little  realized,  and 
that  was  the  thought  and  will-power  of  this  hated 
waif.  More  than  that  and  unknown  to  him,  he  had 
furnished  her  means  for  its  development.  He  was, 
despite  his  brutal  nature,  a  man  of  keen  mind  and 
well  read.  He  had  also  during  his  many  voyages 
gathered  numerous  and  diverse  books.  And  a 
curious  mixture  they  were  too !  Works  by  Voltaire, 
Hume,  Paine,  and  other  atheistic  writers;  books  on 
geology,  astronomy,  and  sciences;  also  of  history 
and  travel.  There  were  novels  as  well  by  Hugo, 
Balzac,  Dumas,  Eliot,  Scott,  and  Ouida ;  poems  by 
Longfellow,  Byron,  Pope,  and  Burns;  and  to  com- 
plete the  unique  library,  Fox's  Book  of  Martyrs, 
Robinson  Crusoe,  and  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

As  soon  as  Myrtle  was  recalled  from  school  she 
began  reading  this  queer  literary  medley  at  odd  mo- 
ments when  the  chance  came,  or  for  hours  in  a  nook 
down  on  the  point  of  Folly  Island  when  her  work 
was  done  and  task-master  away.  And  she  read  them 
thoroughly  and  faithfully,  the  novels  especially,  and 
many  times  over.  Some  of  the  books  were  beyond 
her  and  dull.  Others  opened  her  eyes  to  new  peo- 


34  MTBTLE   BALDWIN 

pie,  high  ideals,  noble  deeds,  and  a  wonder-world  of 
loyal  love  and  self-sacrifice.  She  began  to  think 
for  herself,  to  see  herself  by  comparison  with  others, 
and  better  than  that,  how  her  own  conduct  in  life 
must  and  would  make  or  mar  her  happiness  as  well. 
In  a  way  she  grew  to  be  or  meant  to  be  if  the 
chance  came,  like  the  gracious,  tender,  and  loyal 
heroines,  who  endured  all  things  .for  love's  sake,  and 
won  all  honor  and  devotion  in  payment.  To  her 
these  tales  were  true  ones,  these  people  were  real, 
and  absorbing  their  lives  as  she  now  did,  she  aspired 
to  become  like  them  and  some  day  escape  Folly  Is- 
land and  her  slave  life  here.  Then,  too,  to  enjoy 
this  world  of  romance  and  new  people  all  perfect, 
and  to  dream  of  another  life  in,  she  built  herself  a 
stone  hut  in  this  niche  and  as  an  assistant  to  this 
idyllic,  romantic,  day-dream  pastime, —  her  own  lit- 
tle world  —  she  cleared  and  tended  a  small  flower 
garden  near  by.  The  latent  force  of  virtue,  honor, 
and  love  of  the  beautiful  was  in  her ;  these  books  and 
these  dreams  encouraged  and  developed  it;  and  all 
unknown  to  her  she  educated  herself  into  something 
better  than  the  hard-worked,  ill-clad,  fisher  maid, 
Mark  first  saw  her  to  be. 


CHAPTEE  IV 

ONE  SUMMER  AFTERNOON 

MARK  MASON;  gallant,  impressionable,  yet  admir- 
ing womankind  only  in  a  half-cynical,  analytical 
way;  saw  this  girl's  scared  look  as  she  faced  him 
beside  the  cove  and  spoke  accordingly. 

"  Don't  be  afraid  of  me,"  he  said  quietly,  advanc- 
ing a  few  steps  and  smiling.  "  I  won't  harm  you." 

She  made  no  answer  but  stood  like  a  statue  in  the 
rock-walled  niche,  watching  him  while  the  gulls 
kept  up  their  clamor. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  intruding,"  he  continued  in 
the  same  mellifluous  tone,  "  but  it  was  your  gulls 
that  brought  me  here." 

His  smile  and  halt  ten  feet  away  seemed  to  re- 
assure her. 

"  I  was  scared  for  a  minute,"  she  answered,  "  you 
come  onto  me  so  sudden." 

"  I  saw  you  this  morning  at  the  wharf,"  he  re- 
joined nonchalantly,  and  seating  himself  on  a  rock 
in  an  "  at  home "  manner.  "  My  name's  Mason, 

35 


36  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

Mark  Mason,  and  I'm  from  the  yacht  anchored  in 
the  cove.  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Mine's  Myrtle  —  Baldwin,"  she  returned,  hesi- 
tating over  the  last  one,  "  or  just  Mert,  as  folks  calls 
me." 

"  And  Cap'n  Jud's  granddaughter,  I'm  told," 
Mark  added,  "  so  now  as  we  are  properly  introduced 
sit  down  again  and  feed  your  gulls.  I  like  to  watch 
them  scrapping.  I've  done  it  myself  from  the  yacht 
and  they  will  follow  for  miles.  Do  you  feed  yours 
often  ? "  he  continued  after  watching  that  proceed- 
ing a  moment, 

"  Often  as  I  git  the  chance.  Gran'pa  keeps  me 
workin'  most  o'  the  time  "  — 

"  But  you  found  time  to  build  a  big  play-house 
I  noticed  below  here ;  when  did  you  do  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  odd  spells,"  she  answered  proudly,  tossing 
the  last  of  the  fish  heads  to  the  gulls.  "  It  took  me 
over  a  year.  Ain't  it  a  snug  one  ? " 

"  It  is,  most  certainly,"  he  returned  interested  in 
the  fact  that  this  young  lady,  almost,  should  find 
enjoyment  in  such  an  occupation.  "  But  what  did 
you  build  it  for,  to  kill  time  ? " 

The  girl  looked  at  him  curiously.  "  No,"  she  re- 
plied slowly,  "  I  built  it  just  to  have  some  spot  I 
could  call  my  own  and  to  sit  in  and  think  I  was 
somebody  else." 


ONE    SUMMER   AFTEENOON  37 

"  And  why  do  you  want  to  think  you  are  some- 
body else,"  he  queried,  watching  her,  "  aren't  you 
happy  here  ? " 

The  tone,  look,  and  question,  each  sympathetic, 
seemed  to  win  more  confidence. 

"  Happy !  "  she  answered  with  an  ironical  accent, 
"  yes  so  happy  I'm  almost  tempted  to  jump  into  the 
ocean  and  drown  myself  sometimes,  or  run  away. 
I'd  'a'  done  that  long  ago  if  I'd  'a'  known  some 
place  I  could  earn  my  livin'  at." 

It  was  an  impulsive  burst  of  confidence  quite  sur- 
prising to  Mark,  like  a  plea  for  help,  and  he  smiled 
into  this  serious,  sun-tanned,  child-woman  face  up- 
raised to  his,  with  almost  pity.  And  in  that  mo- 
ment —  that  meeting  of  eye  with  eye  between  these 
two,  coupled  with  his  compassionate  smile  —  a  mu- 
tual interest  was  born  that  cost  her  a  thousand  times 
more  sorrow  than  she  had  ever  known  before,  and 
him,  the  upsetting  of  all  his  life  plans. 

Then,  too,  at  that  instant  he  recalled  all  that  the 
skipper  had  said  of  her  and  Cap'n  Jud ;  his  own  im- 
pressions of  that  surly  sea-dog  and  what  that  hid- 
away  playhouse  meant  as  well.  And  as  one  sees  an 
entire  landscape  by  a  night-flash  of  lightning,  so  now 
Mark  saw  this  girl's  life  and  isolation,  and  its  sud- 
denness was  as  startling.  He  had  supposed  that 
this  fisher-maid  must  be  an  ignoramus  quite  content 


38  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

with  her  humble  lot,  and  here  she  was,  a  young  god- 
dess in  form,  a  woman  grown,  who  built  a  castle 
to  read  and  dream  day-dreams  in  while  feeling  her- 
self a  prisoner  on  this  island.  And  then  such 
books ! 

"  I  am  not  surprised,"  he  answered,  recovering 
himself  and  smiling  again.  "  Your  books  and  the 
playhouse  told  me  you  had  aspirations  beyond  this 
island  and  that  you  must  be  lonely."  The  tone 
more  than  the  words  touched  her. 

"  Oh,  I  am,  sir,"  she  returned  eagerly,  "  so  lone- 
some and  miserable  I  sit  in  my  little  hut  and  cry 
sometimes.  But  I  don't  know  how  to  get  away. 
I  have  no  one  to  help  me  do  anything.  I  hate  this 
island." 

That  "  hate  "  included  her  grandfather  Mark  di- 
vined on  the  instant. 

"  But  this  island  isn't  all  your  life,"  he  rejoined, 
"  you  must  have  some  friends  up  at  the  village  — 
Sandy  Bay  I  believe  it  is  —  and  you  go  to  church 
there  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  went  to  church  in  my  life,"  she  answered 
bluntly,  "  Gran'pa  wouldn't  let  me  and  I  never  had 
clothes  fit.  I  hain't  no  friends  there  either.  Only 
one  girl  and  she  isn't  a  —  a  good  girl  they  say." 

"  But  you  went  to  school  there,"  he  queried  in 


ONE    SUMMER   AFTERNOON  39 

greater  surprise ;  "  what  has  become  of  all  your 
schoolmates  ? " 

"  Oh  they've  all  forgot  me,"  she  replied  looking 
away,  "  they  was  told  to,  I  s'pose." 

Her  life  history  was  coming  thick  and  fast  now 
and  Mark  paused  to  follow  it.  The  skipper's  in- 
sinuation regarding  her  birth  also  recurred  to  him 
and  the  necessity  of  avoiding  it  as  well. 

"  I  presume  you  imagine  that  part,"  he  said 
gently,  after  a  pause,  "  and  the  real  reason  is  that 
you  keep  away  from  them.  Out  of  sight  out  of 
mind  is  the  way  the  world  over,  they  say.  I  think," 
he  added  encouragingly,  "  that  a  girl  with  romance 
enough  to  build  a  castle  for  herself  and  brains 
enough  to  read  and  enjoy  Victor  Hugo  and  Long- 
fellow doesn't  need  schoolmate  friends." 

"  But  I'd  like  clothes  fit  to  be  seen  in,"  she  re- 
turned spiritedly,  as  if  defending  herself,  "  and  I 
hain't  any." 

Mark  glanced  at  the  tight-fitting  soiled  and  faded 
calico  dress  she  wore,  without  collar  or  cuffs,  the 
low  hobbledehoy  shoes  reposing  beside  her  on  the 
rock,  the  soft  brown  hat  near  them  and  smiled. 

"  Oh,  forget  frocks,"  he  said  briskly,  "  and  don't 
worry  about  your  clothing  so  long  as  it  keeps  you 
warm.  To  the  best  of  my  observation,  new  gowns 


40  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

are  so  many  pitfalls  in  a  woman's  life.  First,  they 
encourage  their  vanity,  next,  when  outdone,  excite 
their  envy,  and  in  the  end  bring  humiliation.  To 
me  you  look  as  well  now  as  though  dressed  in  silk." 

"  But  I  ought  to  look  decent,"  she  rejoined  stoutly, 
"  and  not  wear  one  dress  till  it  drops  off." 

"  As  for  that,"  Mark  returned,  smiling  at  the 
woman  of  it,  "  a  wise  man  once  said  that  to  him 
who  hath  a  pair  of  shoes  it  were  as  well  as  if  the 
whole  world  were  covered  with  leather.  One  dress 
is  as  good  as  two  while  it  lasts,  two  gowns  make  you 
want  the  third,  that  will  demand  the  fourth,  and  so 
on  indefinitely." 

"  What  you  say  about  shoes  is  because  I'm  bare- 
foot I  guess,"  she  responded,  failing  to  follow  his 
logic.  "  I  took  mine  off  to  wade  in  the  cove  when 
I  came  here  and  feed  my  gulls.  I'll  put  'em  on 
now,"  and  she  turned  away  to  do  so. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  see  my  flowers  ? "  she  said, 
rising  when  shod,  and  smiling  like  a  child  happy  at 
finding  a  companion.  "  I've  got  a  garden  spot  over 
back,  'and  a  lot  of  posies.  I'll  give  you  some." 

"  Most  assuredly,"  he  answered,  also  rising  and 
more  than  ever  interested  in  this  odd  girl.  "  And 
I  want  to  see  your  playhouse  again." 

Her  garden  to  which  she  now  led  him  eagerly,  was 
a  four-rod-square  patch  of  tilled  soil  in  a  narrow 


ONE    SUMMER   AFTERNOON  41 

dingle,  rock-bordered.  A  low  fence  of  driven  stakes 
and  old  black  fish  net  enclosed  it  with  a  tiny  lattice 
gate  for  entrance.  Here  in  this  plot  grew  a  medley 
of  the  old-fashioned  flowers  Mark  had  first  seen  at 
Good  Will  Farm  and  these  peonies,  sweet  williams, 
phlox,  bachelor's  buttons,  and  nasturtiums  gave  it  a 
most  contrasting  glow  of  color.  A  row  of  hollyhocks 
opened  their  bright  eyes  along  one  side  of  the  patch, 
another  of  sunflowers  just  across  faced  the  afternoon 
sun,  and  morning  glory  vines  almost  hid  the  net 
fence.  Collectively,  it  was  a  very  charming  beauty 
spot  hid  away  amid  the  desolation  of  bare  brown 
rocks.  To  add  neatness,  each  of  the  four  crossed 
walks  in  the  garden  were  paved  with  small,  sea-worn, 
beach  stones.  Like  the  playhouse,  this  garden  must 
have  cost  her  hundreds  of  hours'  work. 

"  It  is  a  more  than  pretty  one,  a  perfect  gem," 
Mark  asserted,  first  surveying  it  then  glancing  at  the 
girl,  "  and  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  lonesome  in 
summer  anyway." 

"  But  it  only  lasts  for  then,"  she  answered  pathetic- 
ally, "  and  when  the  frost  nips  my  posies  I  always 
have  a  crying  spell.  Winters  here  are  almost  hor- 
rible." Then  as  if  no  delay  must  hinder  the  offering 
of  tribute  to  this  first  admirer  and  hero  in  her  life, 
she  entered  the  garden  and  began  breaking  off  the 
choicest  blossoms  as  if  they  were  so  many  weeds. 


42  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

"  Don't  pick  many,"  Mark  cautioned,  "  a  flower 
plucked  is  a  flower  killed  and  I'd  rather  they  were 
left  for  you  to  look  at." 

But  she  paid  no  heed  to  this  request.  In  one 
short  hour  this  stranger,  this  jaunty,  smiling,  suave, 
soft-spoken  mature  young  man,  had  become  almost 
deified  in  her  eyes. 

"  How  do  you  find  time  to  do  all  this  work  and 
for  that  hut  you  built  ? "  he  queried,  watching  her. 

"  Oh,  it  hasn't  seemed  work,"  she  returned  smil- 
ing up  at  him  from  amid  the  flowers,  "  it's  all  been 
play  spells  to  me,  the  only  hours  I've  enjoyed,  and 
what  has  kept  me  from  going  crazy."  And  once 
again  the  pathos  of  her  solitary  life  recurred  to  him. 

When  her  hands  could  hold  no  more  of  the  blos- 
soms she  plucked  so  ruthlessly,  she,  as  if  divining 
his  wishes  led  the  way  to  her  hut,  dropped  them 
on  the  greensward,  brought  out  the  old  chair  for 
him  to  sit  in  as  if  he  were  her  guest  and  squatting 
on  the  grass  began  arranging  her  flowers.  The  lit- 
tle courtesy  was  noted  by  Mark,  he  said  "  Thank 
you,"  and  then  stood  looking  the  unique  structure 
over  once  more.  And  this  time  the  countless  hours 
she  must  have  used  in  its  construction,  the  pains  to 
find  so  many  stones  of  requisite  size  and  shape,  some 
of  them  all  a  man  could  lift,  impressed  him  more 
than  at  first. 


ONE    SUMMER    AFTERNOON  43 

"  How  long  were  you  building  this  hut,  Myrtle  ?  " 
he  queried,  and  thus  addressing  her  for  the  first 
time. 

"  It's  four  years  since  I  began  it,"  she  responded 
in  a  tone  of  pride,  "  and  I  finished  it  last  summer." 

"  And  why  did  you  build  it,  what  do  you  do 
here?" 

"  Oh,  to  have  a  little  spot,  a  shelter  I  could  call 
my  own.  I  come  here  to  read,  watch  the  ocean,  and 
think  I  am  somebody  else  and  talk  to  the  folks  in 
my  books.  This  and  my  garden  are  all  I  have  in 
life." 

Mark  looked  at  her  curiously  a  moment,  and  a 
pretty  picture  she  was  too  in  spite  of  her  faded-out 
and  somewhat  soiled  calico  dress.  Her  face  glowed 
with  happiness,  her  eyes  were  wistful,  her  jet-black 
hair  coiled  neatly,  was  glossy  in  the  sunlight,  and 
her  lips  as  scarlet  as  some  of  the  flowers  now  in  her 
lap.  Just  back  of  her  also,  and  as  if  to  accentuate 
the  picture  rose  a  low,  gray,  moss-coated  wall  of 
granite. 

"  How  old  are  you,  Myrtle  ?  "  Mark  asked,  now 
seating  himself  in  the  chair,  "  you  seem  quite  a 
young  lady." 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  she  stammered  in  sudden 
confusion.  "  I'm  'most  twenty  I  guess,  or  over 
eighteen  anyway.  iSTobody  ever  told  me." 


44  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  And  you  are  not  happy  here,  you  say,  in  spite 
of  your  garden  and  playhouse,  and  want  to  run  away, 
eh  ?  "  he  continued.  "  Now  tell  me  about  your  home 
life,  and  this  old  lady,  your  grandfather's  sister, 
who  brought  you  up,  they  say.  Don't  you  get  along 
with  her  ? " 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Perth  means  to  be  good  to  me,"  she 
answered,  half  scornfully,  "  but  she  dassent.  She 
don't  dare  say  her  soul's  her  own  and  Gran'pa  hates 
me  for  a  reason  I  can't  tell  you.  I  don't  mind  hav- 
ing to  work,"  she  added  defiantly,  "  but  I  can't  stand 
being  hated  and  I  never  have  any  clothes  fit  to  be 
seen  in." 

It  was  all  plain  enough  now,  this  girl's  pitiful 
history  and  the  how  and  why  of  her  desolate  life. 
To  make  it  all  the  harder,  as  Mark  divined,  she  had 
been  endowed  with  a  poetic  soul,  a  romantic  nature 
that  found  companionship  in  a  lonely  hut  and  peace 
of  mind  in  contemplation  of  the  sad  and  solemn 
ocean.  And  more  than  ever  now  he  began  to  pity 
her. 

"  Pm  very  sorry  for  you,  little  girl,"  he  said, 
voicing  it  in  a  tender  tone,  "  the  tables  of  your  life 
seem  turned  against  you.  I  wish  also  I  could  ad- 
vise and  help  you  in  some  way.  I  will  if  I  can." 

Then  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  a  new  door  of  hope 
had  opened. 


ONE    SUMMER   AFTERNOON  45 

"  Oh,  you  can,  sir,"  she  exclaimed  anxiously,  look- 
ing up  at  him,  "  you  are  rich  I  am  sure,  you  have 
been  all  round  and  can  tell  some  place  I  can  go  to 
and  earn  my  living.  That  is  all  I  want;  just  some 
one  to  advise  me." 

"  Well,  perhaps,"  he  responded  cautiously,  con- 
scious that  he  had  provoked  this  dilemma,  yet  will- 
ing to  face  it,  "  I'll  help  you  in  any  way  I  can 
only—" 

"  Only  what  ?  "  she  questioned  as  if  her  fate  hung 
on  his  next  words. 

"  Only,  my  dear  girl,"  he  resumed  slowly,  "  to  be 
the  one  to  help  you  desert  your  home  and  go  out  into 
a  cold  and  selfish  world  is  assuming  a  good  deal 
of  risk  you  see." 

"  But  it's  all  mine,"  she  rejoined  earnestly, 
"  all  I  want  is  to  be  told  where  to  go  and  earn  my 
keep." 

"  And  suppose  that  spot  is  one  or  two  hundred 
miles  away,  what  then  ?  How  will  you  get  there  ?  " 

"  I  can  walk,  can't  I,"  she  declared  eagerly,  and 
then  the  courageous  spirit  so  shown  seemed  pathetic. 
It  was  evident  that  she  had  reached  an  almost 
desperate  frame  of  mind. 

"  Well,  my  dear  girl,"  he  responded  slowly  as  if 
looking  into  her  future,  "  I'll  help  you  if  you  say 
you  are  absolutely  determined  to  leave  this  island, 


46  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

but  —  I  positively  must  not  be  known  as  doing  so 
or  it  will  ruin  your  good  name." 

"  I  know  it,"  she  answered  coloring,  "  but  I'll 
promise  that  no  one  shall  find  it  out,  for  no  one  can 
unless  I  tell." 

"  And  you  will  also  have  to  let  me  loan  you  some 
money,"  he  added  wondering  how  that  would  strike 
her,  "  you  can't  go  away  without  that  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  take  money,"  she  rejoined 
spiritedly,  "  all  I  want  is  some  place  to  go  to." 

"  But  you  must  have  money  to  go  anywhere,"  he 
insisted,  "  I  can  find  you  some  place  to  work  but 
you  couldn't  walk  to  it  and  you  also  need  a  new  dress, 
shoes,  hat,  lots  of  things  I  guess.  No,"  he  con- 
tinued in  paternal  tone,  "  I'll  help  you  Myrtle  if 
you  insist  on  leaving  here  but  you  must  accept  a 
loan  and  go  at  it  in  a  sensible  way." 

Then  she  again  looked  up  at  him  with  eyes  misty 
and  like  a  dog's  watching  his  master.  The  door  of 
hope  was  now  wide  open  and  through  it  shone  the 
light  of  a  new  life. 

But  to  Mark  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  just  assumed 
ownership  of  a  white  elephant. 

"  Now  that  that  point  is  settled,"  he  continued  feel- 
ing a  mixed  sensation  of  pride  and  new  responsiblity, 
"  I'll  think  the  matter  over  and  what  I'd  best  do 
for  you." 


ONE    SUMMER   AFTERNOON  4V 

And  now  came  an  unexpected  interruption  for 
glancing  out  over  the  ocean  the  girl  saw  a  boat 
far  away.  "  There's  Gran'pa  coming  home,"  she 
explained  rising  suddenly,  "  and  I  must,  go  back 
now.  And  please  won't  you  keep  out  of  sight  too, 
Mr.  Mason,"  she  added  hurriedly,  "  follow  the  shore 
up  this  side  of  the  island.  If  he  sees  you  with  me 
I'll  get  larruped." 

"  Why,  of  course,"  he  rejoined,  sorry  for  the  sud- 
den termination  of  a  pleasant  tete-a-tete,  yet  thus 
given  another  insight  into  this  girl's  life.  "  I'll 
keep  out  of  sight  and  also  meet  you  here  to-morrow 
afternoon.  I  may  also  go  to  the  village  this  even- 
ing for  letters,  maybe  you  can  get  a  chance  to  meet 
me  on  my  way  back,"  and  then  rising  he  held  out 
his  hand. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said,  smiling  into  her  anxious  face, 
"  and  cheer  up,  you  may  be  happy  yet." 

"  Here  are  your  flowers,"  she  replied  withdraw- 
ing her  hand  from  his  the  instant  she  felt  its  clasp, 
and  stooping,  handed  the  enormous  bouquet  to  him. 
"  I  shall  meet  you  to-night  if  I  can  and  come  here 
to-morrow  anyway,"  she  added  hastily,  "  so  good- 
bye," and  off  she  ran  like  a  deer  up  the  island. 

He  also  and  gallantly  heeding  this  odd,  ill-clad, 
winsome  girl's  request,  followed  the  island  shores 
around  to  within  sight  of  the  wharf  and  Cap't  Jud, 


48  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

landing  there.  To  go  on  and  meet  him  while  car- 
rying the  flowers  would  never  do.  To  throw  them 
away  he  couldn't,  so  he  crouched  behind  a  low  spruce 
watching  and  waiting  until  the  coast  was  clear  and 
then  pulled  out  to  the  yacht. 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  bouquet  ?  "  Frank  queried 
as  he  stepped  aboard. 

"  Oh,  I  was  over  to  the  village,"  Mark  answered, 
nonchalantly,  "  and  made  friends  with  a  most  charm- 
ing old  lady." 

Some  evasions  become  a  matter  of  honor. 


CHAPTER  V 

MYSTIC   MOONSHINE 

MARK  MASON  had  reached  thirty  without  suffering 
any  serious  heart  troubles.  Neither  could  it  be  said 
that  he  felt  any  extra  emotion  after  his  three-hour 
visit  with  this  unique  island  girl.  He  did  feel  a 
good  deal  of  pity,  however,  and  some  curiosity.  Also 
surprise  that  she  should  have  the  courage  and  self- 
reliance  disclosed  by  her  intentions. 

"  Poor  girl,"  he  said  to  himself  a  dozen  times 
after  leaving  her,  "  she  hasn't  the  faintest  idea  what 
it  means  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  earn  an  honest 
living.  And  her  good  looks  will  make  that  sort  all 
the  harder.  There  is  about  one  chance  in  ten  she 
may  meet  and  marry  some  decent  fellow  and  nine 
that  she  will  wreck  herself  as  her  mother  did  and 
join  the  scarlet  army." 

But  speculations  of  this  sort  are  unwise  for  a 
heart-whole  young  man  like  Mark  who  means  to 
remain  so,  and  yet  they  kept  recurring  to  him.  The 
oftener  they  did  recur,  the  more  he  felt  the  witchery 
of  her  appealing  eyes  and  desire  to  aid  and  pro- 

49 


50  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

tect  her.  Then  too  the  knight  errant  romance  of  it 
was  attractive.  He  didn't  mean  to  fall  in  love  with 
her,  however ;  oh  no !  He  meant  to  remain  as  he  was 
a  free  and  untrammeled  young  bachelor.  Still  he 
could  pity  her  all  he  chose,  he  was  sure,  help  her 
as  well  —  he  was  able  —  and  having  done  so  much 
in  a  fatherly  sort  of  way  leave  her  to  carve  her  own 
destiny  in  life.  All  this  was  very  nice  and  philan- 
thropic he  was  sure  —  and  it  was.  She  most  cer- 
tainly needed  help  from  some  one  —  that  was  self- 
evident.  And  why  not  be  the  one  to  extend  it? 
Kisky,  of  course?  Still  that  made  it  all  the  more 
attractive.  Then  to  complicate  matters  the  more 
he  thought  of  this  lone  and  lonely  fisher-maid  who 
built  a  playhouse  to  read  and  dream  in,  the  more 
anxious  he  became  to  help  her.  It  was  easy  also 
to  get  away  from  the  yacht  and  meet  her  as  planned. 
The  "Injuns"  who  played  poker  incessantly  had 
scant  interest  in  him  or  he  in  them  and  so  that 
evening  he  excused  himself  early  and  pulled  ashore. 
No  one  was  at  the  wharf  when  he  landed.  The 
makeshift  character  and  fishy  odor  were  more  pro- 
nounced than  ever  and  suggestive  of  ample  reason 
why  this  girl  must  want  to  escape  her  slavery  there 
as  well.  Mark  drew  his  yawl  out,  and  followed  the 
grass-grown  roadway  up  the  inlet  to  the  bridge  con- 
necting island  and  mainland  where  he  had  hoped 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE  51 

to  meet  her.  She  was  not  there,  however,  and  he 
halted  to  await  her  and  look  around.  It  was  after 
sunset  now.  A  late-rising  moon  just  emerging  from 
the  scarce  rippled  ocean  opened  its  broadening  path 
of  silver  sheen  to  add  romance.  The  air  was  balmy 
and  odorous  of  bayberry  bushes  and  the  salty  zest 
of  the  sea,  while  the  murmur  of  wave-wash  mingled 
with  the  gurgle  of  the  tide-  beneath  the  bridge.  A 
time,  place,  and  impress;  calm,  sweet,  and  soothing. 
Only  for  a  moment  was  Mark  left  to  contemplate 
it  alone,  then  a  rustle  was  heard  in  a  near-by  clump 
of  scrub  spruce  and  Myrtle  emerged. 

"  Hello,  little  girl,"  he  exclaimed  cheerily,  "  you 
certainly  took  me  unawares  popping  this  way  out  of 
the  bushes  like  a  fairy.  But  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"  I've  been  waiting  quite  a  spell,"  she  admitted 
frankly,  "  and  hid  for  fear  some  one  else  from 
your  yacht  might  come." 

"  That  was  wise,  my  dear  sprite,"  he  returned 
nonchalantly,  and  in  a  mood  for  romantic  speech. 
"  I  see  I  can  trust  your  discretion.  Now  let  us 
go  on  to  the  village,"  he  added  taking  her  arm  to 
guide  her  up  the  stony  path,  "  it's  this  way  I 
suppose." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  go  quite  there,"  she  responded, 
catching  step  with  him,  "  only  to  within  sight  of 
it  and  then  I'll  wait  for  you." 


52  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  Right  you  are  again,"  he  asserted  well  pleased 
by  her  confidence  and  slowing  down  his  steps.  "  And 
we  won't  hurry  either,  it's  too  pleasant  an  evening. 
Did  you  get  home  safe  this  afternoon,  or  rather  did 
anyone  suspect  you  met  me  ? " 

"  No  I  guess  not,"  she  responded  grateful  for  this 
interest,  "  or  Gran'pa  would  'a'  locked  me  up  so  I 
couldn't  V  met  you." 

"  And  you  wanted  to,  I  assume  ?  "  glancing  at  her. 

"You  asked  me  to,"  she  returned  naively  look- 
ing away,  "  and  I  —  I  never  had  no  one  take  any 
interest  in  me  before." 

"  Of  course  I  did,  my  dear  girl,"  he  responded 
gallantly,  "  and  I  should  have  been  much  disap- 
pointed had  you  failed  to  come.  I've  thought  of 
you  all  the  time  since  we  parted  and  made  up  my 
mind  to  help  you.  Only  we  must  go  about  it  dis- 
creetly and  you  must  never,  never,  let  your  people 
even  guess  I  did  so." 

"  I  wouldn't  tell  if  Gran'pa  killed  me,"  she  re- 
turned resolutely  and  with  a  grateful  glance  at  him, 
"  I  won't  never  tell  nobody,  not  a  word." 

"  And  now,  Myrtle,"  he  continued  in  a  business 
tone,  "  what  can  you  do  and  where  do  you  want 
to  go?" 

"  I  don't  care  where  I  go  so  long  as  its  a  good 
ways  from  here,  or  what  I  do,"  she  responded 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE  53 

courageously.  "  All  I  want  is  a  chance  to  earn  my 
living." 

"  That's  the  right  spirit,  but  this  world  is  a  very 
cold,  selfish,  and  merciless  one  and  you  must  face 
loneliness,  danger,  and  many  pitfalls.  I  don't 
imagine  you  know  much  about  it." 

"  I  don't  know  anything,"  she  admitted  candidly, 
"  for  I've  never  been  beyond  Sandy  Bay.  I'm  not 
afraid,  however,  so  long  as  I  can  earn  my  keep. 
I  won't  stay  here  much  longer  anyway." 

Then  Mark  began  to  give  this  matter  some  serious 
thought  for  a  peculiar  problem  faced  him.  He  was 
willing  to  help  her,  meant  to.  He  was  ready  to 
loan  her  money,  not  even  caring  or  expecting  it  to 
be  returned,  but  take  her  where  he  might,  locate 
her  as  he  could,  she  would  still  be  on  his  hands  and 
he  knew  very  well  that  he  couldn't  then  desert  her 
and  leave  her  to  shift  for  herself.  And  so  the  white 
elephant  aspect  of  this  proposition  began  to  assume 
large  proportions.  And  yet,  here  she  was,  grate- 
ful to  be  walking  beside  him,  sure  he  was  going 
to  help  her  and  ready  to  accept  any  plan  he  proposed. 
And  now  having  once  promised  to  aid  and  befriend 
her  he  wasn't  the  man  to  back  out,  never,  never ! 

"  Well,  little  girl,"  he  said  finally,  "  I  am  going 
to  do  as  I  said  and  help  you  away  from  Folly  Island 
and  to  find  some  respectable  employment.  Just 


54  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

where  or  what  I  can't  now  make  up  my  mind  and 
must  think  it  over.  I  want  you  to  meet  me  to- 
morrow afternoon  at  your  playhouse  —  if  you  can 
safely  —  and  meantime  I'll  hit  on  some  feasible  plan 
for  you.  I  presume  house  or  table  work  or  a  mill 
will  be  about  what  you  will  have  to  accept." 

"  I'll  be  satisfied  with  either,"  she  responded  grate- 
fully, "  and  it  will  be  ten  times  better  than  the  fish 
house  and  being  hated." 

"  I  shall  have  to  keep  watch  over  you,"  he  resumed, 
smiling  at  her,  "  be  a  sort  of  father  as  it  were  and 
see  you  don't  come  to  want  or  elope  with  some  rap- 
scallion of  a  fellow.  You  mustn't  do  that  anyway." 

And  then  her  heart  leaped  with  a  new  and  won- 
drous joy  for  this  was  more  than  she  had  even 
hoped  for.  And  so  grateful  was  she  that  she  bit  her 
lips  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  responded,  trying  to 
steady  her  voice,  "  and  I  can  never  thank  you 
enough.  I  will  always  do  just  what  you  say  I  shall, 
and  —  and  I  am  so  happy." 

At  the  hilltop  overlooking  Sandy  Bay  he  halted. 
"  Now,  little  girl,"  he  said  gently,  "  you  wait  here 
for  me  and  I'll  go  on  and  get  my  mail.  It's  not 
best  for  you  to  be  seen  with  me,  as  you  inferred, 
and  I'll  hurry  back." 

And  he  did  too,  not  even  pausing  to  exchange  a 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE  55 

word  with  Amos  Orton  at  the  store,  except  to  ask 
for  letters  and  buy  a  box  of  candy  for  the  waiting 
girl.  She  was  nestled  beside  a  rock  on  the  hill 
watching  the  wide  moonlit  ocean  when  he  returned, 
and  as  she  rose  to  meet  him  a  look  of  newborn  hope 
lit  up  her  face  and  big  wistful  eyes. 

"  Was  I  gone  long  ? "  he  asked,  smiling  at  her, 
for  despite  her  pinching  dress  ready  to  burst  from 
the  rounded  form  within,  and  the  soft  hat  in  her 
hand  she  was  undeniably  handsome  there  in  the 
moonlight. 

"  It  seemed  a  long  time,"  she  responded  softly, 
"  but  I  was  willing  to  wait." 

And  so  she  was  willing  to  wait,  to  do,  to  dare, 
to  risk  anything  for  just  a  word  or  smile  from  this, 
the  first  and  only  hero  who  had  ever  entered  her 
life! 

"  Well,"  he  said  half  conscious  of  this  and  taking 
her  arm  again,  "  now  we  will  go  back.  I  presume 
you  feel  you  mustn't  stay  out  late  ?  " 

"  I  dassent,"  she  admitted  almost  trembling, 
"  Gran'f  ather  would  kill  me  if  he  knew  where  I 
was." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  so  afraid  of  that  cussed  brute," 
Mark  blurted  out,  "  for  he  is  a  brute  to  treat  you 
so.  I  saw  him  throw  the  bloody  fish  at  you  this 
morning,  heard  what  he  said,  and  it's  that  that's 


56  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

made  me  offer  to  help  you.  Of  course,"  he  added 
less  sharply,  "  it's  not  best  for  him  to  know  we  met 
and  you  are  wise  to  be  careful." 

At  the  bridge  he  halted  again  and  now  another 
complication  occurred  to  Mark.  "  Suppose  you 
can't  meet  me  to-morrow,"  he  said ;  "  what  then  ? 
When  and  where  can  I  see  you  ? " 

"  Oh  I'll  find  a  way  somehow,"  she  returned 
buoyantly,  "  Gran'pa  goes  off  fishing  'most  every 
afternoon  and  if  he  don't  I  can  come  here  in  the 
evening." 

"  Do  you  go  to  the  village  often  and  get  letters 
there  ? "  he  continued,  thinking  beyond  her.  "  I 
shall  have  to  write,  you  see,  when  I  find  the  right 
place  for  you." 

"  I  never  got  a  letter  in  my  life,"  she  admitted, 
candidly,  "  but  I  will  go  there  now  and  ask  for  them. 
You  ain't  a-going  away  very  soon,"  she  added 
anxiously,  "  not  for  a  few  days,  are  you  ? " 

"  No,  I  presume  not,  but  I  can't  say.  I  am  only 
a  guest  on  my  friend's  boat  and  when  he  says  'go/ 
go  I  must." 

That  question  and  response  was  the  first  mutual 
admission  of  the  new  bond  between  them.  She  was 
not  conscious  of  it  as  yet,  only  that  this  unexpected 
friend  and  gallant  hero  had  in  six  hours  become  a 
protector  and  means  of  escaping  her  hated  life  here. 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE'  57 

But  Mark,  quicker  to  catch  the  meaning  of  words, 
divined  on  the  instant  how  she  felt. 

"  You  mustn't  let  my  going  away  discourage  you, 
my  dear  girl,"  he  said  consolingly.  "  I  shall  do  as 
I  say,  find  you  a  place  to  go  to  and  after  that  still 
remain  your  friend  and  adviser." 

"I  —  I  wish  you  —  you  could  meet  me  soon  after 
I  go  away,"  she  stammered  conscious  only  of  her  own 
helplessness  but  not  thinking  how  much  she  was 
trusting  this  man.  "  I  guess  you  wouldn't  want  to, 
though,"  she  added  on  second  thought.  "  You'd  be 
ashamed  of  me." 

"  No,  it  isn't  that,  Myrtle,"  he  returned  soberly, 
"  I  have  no  foolish  pride  of  that  sort,  only  this  world 
always  thinks  evil  first  and  good  later  —  maybe,  and 
my  escorting  you  to  some  place  you  were  to  live  in 
would  inevitably  harm  your  good  name  and  that 
mustn't  happen.  My  aid  and  protection  must  be 
given  by  letter." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  she  answered  turning 
away. 

And  now  the  weird  mysticism  of  a  moonlight 
ocean  murmuring  a  down  the  rock-ribbed  shores  of 
Folly  Island  lifted  Mark  above  minor  concerns  and 
this  girl's  needs. 

"  Do  you  know,  Myrtle,  such  an  evening  as  this 
is  one  to  be  long  remembered,"  he  said,  first  glancing 


58  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

at  her  leaning  on  the  bridge  rail  beside  him,  then 
out  upon  the  ocean.  "  Also  one  that  you  and  I  both 
will  recall  many  times.  It  is  like  a  promise  of 
peace  in  a  troubled  life,  a  new  world  altogether 
fascinating,  weird,  and  alluring.  It  makes  me  for- 
get this  one,  money-making,  and  selfish  humanity; 
and  when  I  look  out  upon  that  path  of  silver  light 
I  follow  it  into  an  unknown  realm." 

"  I've  felt  so,  too,"  she  answered  less  poetically, 
"  and  all  the  pleasant  hours  I've  had  were  those  down 
at  my  playhouse  watching  the  ocean.  I  always  go 
there  mooonlight  nights  to  sit  and  think.  Sometimes 
I  feel  very  happy  doing  so,  then  get  blue  and  have  a 
crying  spell.  And  once  I  fell  asleep  there  and  didn't 
wake  up  till  'most  morning.  Gran'pa  thinks  I  am 
there  now,"  she  added  returning  to  the  one  ogre  of 
her  life,  "  or  else  I  wouldn't  have  dared  come  here." 

"  And  you  read  your  books  there  I  suppose  ? "  he 
queried,  again  glancing  at  this  odd  girl.  "  Don't 
they  make  you  forget  your  troubles  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  always,  only  when  I  finish  one  I  feel 
more  lonesome,  just  as  if  my  book  friends  had  gone 
away.  And  then  they  are  such  nice  people,  too,  al- 
ways so  kind  and  loving  to  one  another,  most  of 
them  anyway,  and  the  ladies  all  have  nice  dresses 
and  are  so  handsome.  I  talk  to  them,  too,  like  they 
was  real  ones,"  she  added  eagerly,  "  and  tell  'em  how 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE  59 

lucky  they  are  and  how  sorry  I  am  when  they  have 
trouble.  Then  sometimes  I  think  they  are  near  me 
creeping  around  among  the  rocks  or  back  of  my  hut, 
a  whispering.  It's  the  breeze  or  the  water  I  know 
but  it  sounds  like  voices." 

"  Well  you  are  a  romantic  girl,"  Mark  ejaculated 
in  surprise,  "  and  a  bit  poetic  as  well.  I  don't  won- 
der you  hate  your  life  here  and  the  fish  house." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  work  part,"  she  returned 
hurriedly,  "  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  work  hard 
all  day.  Its  only  because  I  am  hated  I  want  to  go 
away.  Its  awful  hard  to  feel  you  are  hated  all  the 
time." 

Then  Mark  scanned  her  face  curiously,  conscious 
also  of  an  increasing  interest.  In  fact  she  had  from 
the  very  outset  been  a  surprise  and  now  was  more  so 
than  ever.  And  her  face,  animated  as  it  was  by  this 
burst  of  confidence,  with  eyes  tender  in  the  moon- 
light was  a  very  winsome  one.  Never  in  all  his  life 
had  he  seen  one  quite  like  it,  or  a  girl  so  utterly 
innocent  and  confiding  as  she  was.  A  perfect  child- 
woman  in  fact,  unconscious  of  evil,  poetic  in  thought, 
romantic  by  nature. 

"  I  understand  you  now,"  he  asserted  finally, 
voicing  this,  "  and  that  you  must  leave  Folly  Island 
or  grow  more  unhappy  day  by  day."  Then  the  busi- 
ness side  of  this  conclusion  recurred  to  him  as  was 


60  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

natural,  and  he  drew  forth  a  pocket  book.  "  Here 
is  fifty  dollars,"  he  added,  counting  it  out,  "  and  my 
card.  Hide  both  where  no  one  can  possibly  find 
them,  go  to  the  post  office  three  or  four  days  after 
I  leave  here  and  follow  the  directions  I  shall  write 
you." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  take  the  money,"  she  re- 
plied quickly,  "  I  can  never  pay  it  back,  and  in  one 
of  my  books  it  says  a  girl  must  never  take  money 
from  a  man  not  related  to  her." 

"  But  you  must  this  time,"  he  returned  impera- 
tively, "  it's  a  loan  you  can  feel  you  are  to  pay  back 
sometime,  and  you  can't  get  away  without  it  you 
know.  Now  you  must  do  as  I  say,  for  I  cannot  help 
you  unless  you  do." 

Then  hestitating  a  moment  yet,  she  finally  took 
the  money  from  Mark's  hand  and  thrust  it  into  the 
bosom  of  her  dress.  Little  did  he  then  realize  how 
sacred  an  obligation  this  now  became  to  her,  or  how 
she  would  —  and  did  in  time  —  face  starvation 
rather  than  fail  to  return  it. 

"  And  now,  Myrtle,"  he  continued  nonchalantly, 
and  smiling,  "  you  must  think  and  feel  I  am  your 
big  brother  and  going  to  take  good  care  of  you,  as 
I  shall.  Meet  me  at  your  playhouse  to-morrow  after- 
noon, or  here  in  the  evening  as  best  you  can,  only  be 
careful  no  one  suspects  what's  afoot,  and  never  men- 


MYSTIC    MOONSHINE!  61 

tion  my  name  to  a  living  soul  until  I  say  you  can. 
Now  I  guess  it's  time  for  you  to  go  home." 

And  then,  with  so  much  settled  in  this  unique  and 
unusual  pact,  he  locked  his  arm  in  hers  —  as  a  lover 
would  —  and  led  her  from  the  bridge. 

At  the  parting  of  their  ways  he  halted  and  then 
a  quite  natural  temptation  came  to  him.  In  a  way 
she  was  pledged  to  him  he  felt,  her  future,  at  least 
for  a  time,  and  her  good  name  as  well.  Him,  she 
had  taken  for  adviser,  friend,  and  helper,  to  do  as 
he  said  and  trust  him  implicitly.  All  this  she  had 
accepted  without  question.  And  now  she  was  beside 
him  in  the  narrow  bush-bordered  path  with  only  the 
moon  for  observer  and  they  about  to  part! 

And  why  not  part  as  youthful  man  and  maid  when 
lovers  ever  do?  That  she  must  be  willing  he  felt 
on  the  instant.  And  her  lips  were  very  tempting! 

But  somehow  her  utter  faith  and  simple  inno- 
cence had  thrown  a  mantle  about  her,  a  veil  invisible, 
that  Mark,  lofty  in  honor,  could  not  now  draw  aside. 

"  Good  night,  my  dear,"  he  said  gently,  overcom- 
ing the  insidious  temptation  as  few  men  could,  "  and 
dream  of  happier  days  to  come.  I'll  see  you  to-mor- 
row." Then  he  strode  away. 

And  watching  him  leave,  back  to  her  when  he  was 
half  way  to  the  wharf  carne  the  sweet  refrain  of  "  My 
Old  Kentucky  Home  "  softly  whistled  by  him. 


62  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

But  sleep  was  not  for  her  as  yet,  for  when  she 
reached  her  poor  little  room  she  knelt  on  the  bare 
floor  at  her  one  small  window,  to  watch  the  yacht, 
still  alight  out  on  Folly  Cove,  and  peep  into  the 
new  world  of  hope  now  opened  to  her. 

And  just  then  she  would  —  if  she  could  —  have 
kissed  the  hand  that  opened  its  door,  even  as  a  dog 
would  caress  its  master's. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    POWER   OF   HOPE 

MYRTLE  was  up  and  about  her  duties  next  morn- 
ing as  usual  and  as  early,  which  was  soon  after  day- 
light. She  helped  about  breakfast-getting  —  the 
fetching  of  water,  fire-building,  cooking  and  dish- 
washing—  the  same  morning  monotony,  also  as 
usual  without  a  word  from  old  Aunt  Perth  or  surly 
Cap'n  Jud.  Then  once  more  to  the  fish  house  of 
vile  odor  and  the  spreading  of  pickled  fish. 

The  sun  came  up  blistering  hot,  the  flies  swarmed 
as  always  there  in  summer,  the  smells  increased  or 
grew  worse,  and  the  first  word  Cap'n  Jud  addressed 
to  her  was  a  grunted  command.  The  gulls  came 
again  as  he  began  to  split  fish  once  more,  a  breeze 
rippled  into  Folly  Cove,  and  the  day  began  as  all 
summer  ones  did. 

And  yet  not  this  one  for  her,  for  now  a  new  life 
far  away  from  this  hated  and  hateful  one  was  ahead 
of  her,  soon  to  be  entered,  and  she  was  to  escape  this 
unhappy,  lonely,  lonesome,  and  altogether  wretched 
one. 

The  crates  of  fish  were  as  heavy  as  usual  but  she 
63 


64:  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

lifted  them  with  a  new  buoyant  strength.  The  flies 
pursued  and  bit  her  but  she  felt  them  not.  Her  piti- 
ful garb  grew  brine-soaked  but  she  knew  it  not. 
Cap'n  Jud  even  cursed  her  for  pausing  to  look  at 
the  yacht  outside,  but  she  heard  him  not  or  scarcely 
—  for  on  that  beautiful,  white,  graceful  craft,  whose 
burnished  rails  were  like  gold  in  the  morning  sun  — 
was  one  who  was  to  rescue  her  from  this  horrible 
despicable  life  and  soon,  too! 

And  then  cheered  by  this  new  hope  and  expecta- 
tion, brighter  and  better  things  recurred  to  her. 
She  heard  birds  singing  in  the  bushes  across  the 
cove,  the  crisp  sea  breeze  replaced  the  fish-house 
odor,  the  monotone  of  the  ocean  seemed  a  soothing, 
sweet  melody  and  the  gulls  to  be  trying  to  talk  to 
her.  Two,  four,  six  hours  of  this  hard-worked 
life,  passed  as  one  hour  to  her,  noon  and  dinner 
came,  then  the  turning  of  fish  on  the  racks  as  Cap'n 
Jud  —  much  to  her  satisfaction  —  launched  his  dory 
and  pulled  away.  And  now  she  hurried  through 
her  remaining  work  as  never  before,  hastened  to  her 
room  to  wash  and  don  her  one  best  and  only  sum- 
mer dress,  a  calico  one,  and  still  watching  the  yacht 
furtively  —  as  she  had  all  that  morning,  she  stole 
away  down  to  the  point  and  her  playhouse. 

And  Mark  also  watchful  that  day  saw  all  this. 

But  he  as  well,  felt  that  caution  was  obligatory 


65 

on  him  now,  and  after  asserting  that  he  needed  ex- 
ercise and  a  swim  also,  got  into  his  yawl  and  —  to 
deceive  the  "  Injuns  " —  pulled  through  the  inlet 
and  around  the  further  shore  of  Folly  Island,  out 
of  sight  of  them  and  down  towards  the  point.  To 
surprise  the  girl  he  knew  was  awaiting  him  there  he 
landed  just  above  it  in  the  cove  where  she  had  fed 
the  gulls,  and  crept  along  the  beach  until  he  was 
opposite  her  hut  and  gazed  stealthily  over  the  low 
cliff  shore.  She  was  there  on  a  rock  near  her  play- 
house intently  watching  up  the  island ;  a  few  flowers 
pinned  to  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  one  open  rose  in 
her  coils  of  jet-black  hair  and  evidently  —  as  Mark 
noted, —  arrayed  as  best  she  could  to  receive  him. 
He  noticed  also  a  freshly  gathered  bouquet  from 
her  garden  on  the  box  in  her  playhouse. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Miss  Baldwin,"  he  said  thus 
accosting  her  and  smiling,  as  he  saw  her  start,  turn 
to  him  on  the  instant,  and  blush  red  as  the  rose  in 
her  hair. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you  up  the  island,"  she  ad- 
mitted springing  to  her  feet,  "  and  was  afraid  you 
wasn't  coming." 

"  Oh,  I  keep  my  promises  always,  if  I  possibly 
can,"  he  asserted  in  his  positive  way,  "  and  now  how 
are  you  ?  I  saw  you  working  all  the  morning  and 
also  start  for  here  an  hour  ago." 


66  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  You  did,"  she  returned  naively  and  coloring 
again,  "  I  couldn't  see  you  on  your  boat,  though  I 
looked  whenever  I  got  the  chance." 

"  Well  I  was  there  in  a  hammock  reading  and 
keeping  watch  of  you  as  well.  Was  it  all  right  last 
night  when  you  got  home  ?  No  kicks,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  they  were  asleep,"  she  answered  innocently, 
"  and  I  was  so  happy  I  sat  by  my  window  a  long 
time  watching  your  boat,  till  after  midnight  I  guess." 

"  So  far  so  good,"  Mark  asserted,  smiling  — "  and 
now  let's  sit  down  in  the  shade  of  your  castle  and 
have  a  nice  visit." 

She  obeyed,  ready  now  to  obey  even  his  lightest 
wish;  he  lit  a  cigar,  stretched  himself  beside  her 
and  puffed  away  a  few  moments  in  silence.  Some- 
how too  this  girl's  ready  obedience,  her  naivete,  her 
blind  faith  in  him  now  seemed  very  consoling.  She 
at  first  had  appeared  like  a  white  elephant  on  his 
hands;  now  he  was  glad  he  had  undertaken  her 
guidance  and  almost  felt  a  sense  of  proprietorship 
in  her.  In  a  way  she  was  his  to  direct,  he  realized ; 
she  certainly  had  placed  her  fate  and  future  in  his 
hands;  blindly,  almost,  and  implicitly  beyond  ques- 
tion !  And  why  not  ? 

She  was  in  nowise  to  blame  for  this  faith,  either, 
as  he  now  knew,  for  she  had  no  parent  to  gainsay 


THE    POWER    OF    HOPE  67 

it,  she  was  here  on  sufferance  and  hated  in  the  bar- 
gain ;  Cap'n  Jud  would  most  likely  feel  "  good  rid- 
dance "  when  she  left,  Aunt  Perth  didn't  count,  and 
the  best  outcome  for  her  was  what  she  now  planned 
to  do.  Then  Mark's  own  past  —  and  similar  history 
—  recurred  to  him  as  he  smoked  and  stole  a  sly 
glance  at  the  girl  not  ten  feet  away.  He  had  never 
confided  it  to  anyone,  it  was  a  sealed  book,  but  now, 
somehow,  the  impulse  came  to  him  to  tell  it  all  to 
her. 

"  Myrtle,"  he  said  suddenly,  drawing  himself  up 
and  leaning  against  the  hut,  "  I  told  you  last  night 
I  was  going  to  be  your  friend  and  big  brother,  and 
help  you,  and  I  am.  You  trust  me  also  without 
question  and  I  shall  never  go  back  on  that  faith  or 
be  anything  else  except  your  good  friend.  I  know 
your  history,  how  you  came  here  and  all  that  makes 
you  unhappy.  In  a  way,  also,  we  are  brother  -and 
sister  in  misfortune  and  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
why." 

And  tell  it  all  he  did  from  the  very  first  day  he 
began  to  guess  his  parentless,  deserted  position  at 
the  asylum,  then  to  Good  Will  Farm  and  life  there, 
and  then  out  into  the  great  world  with  all  his  fight 
for  a  livelihood  and  final  success.  It  took  two  hours 
in  the  telling,  held  her  spell-bound  all  that  time,  as 


68  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

indeed  it  must  do,  and  when  he  finished  she  turned 
to  him  with  a  tender,  almost  loving  look  and  made 
an  odd  answer. 

"  Gran'pa  says  there  is  no  such  thing  as  God," 
she  said,  "  only  luck  and  the  devil.  My  books  say 
there  is  a  God  and  I  am  going  to  believe  it  was 
Him  that  made  you  come  here  to  help  me.  And  I 
am  so  glad  for  what  you've  told  me,  too,  and  —  and 
your  being  so,  and  sorry  for  me  makes  me  so  happy." 

It  was  an  incoherent  response  but  Mark  .under- 
stood it.  Also  that  now,  so  complete  was  her  faith 
in  him ,  were  he  to  open  his  arms  and  say  "  Be  my 
wife,"  she  would  spring  into  them  as  a  tortured 
soul  would  leap  into  Heaven  if  the  door  were  opened. 

But  Mark  was  not  quite  ready  for  that  as  yet. 
This  girl  was  crude,  untutored,  of  necessity  lack- 
ing polish;  the  wonder  to  him  was  why  she  was  not 
more  so.  On  the  other  hand,  she  was  alluring, 
handsome,  courageous,  self-reliant,  and  blindly  con- 
fiding. All  this  he  had  seen  or  now  realized;  and 
deep  in  his  heart  he  half  felt  that  the  "  Be  my  wife  " 
outcome  would  yet  rise  to  his  lips.  But  not  yet,  oh 
no!  Only  to  be  her  good  friend  and  help  her  for 
the  present. 

It  was  not  many  days  ere  he  repented  his  cold 
calculations  and  missed  opportunities. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  feel  so,  Myrtle,"  he  now  said 


THE   POWER  OF   HOPE  69 

emerging  from  his  trance.  "  There  most  certainly 
is  a  God  who  watches  over  us,  and  maybe  He  sent  me 
ashore  to  see  you  abused  and  offer  my  aid.  You  are 
sure  of  it  anyhow,  and  I'm  glad  I  can  help  you. 
And  now,  my  dear  sister,"  he  added  buoyantly,  "  I've 
mapped  out  my  —  our  plans  a  little  clearer,  I  shall 
go  away  from  here  in  a  day  or  two,  maybe  quit 
the  yacht  here,  possibly  I  may  go  to  Good  Will  and 
consult  Mr.  Hinckley,  and  as  soon  as  I've  decided 
what  to  do  for  you,  or  with  you,  I  shall  write  to 
you.  Now  there  is  another  matter  you  must  con- 
sider. When  you  leave  here  it  is  for  good;  you  can 
never  return.  There  is  no  one  you  can  confide  in, 
in  fact,  you  must  not  in  any  one,  so  it  is  best  and 
for  your  good  name  to  go  away  at  night  and  in 
such  manner  that  your  people  here,  and  Sandy  Bay, 
will  believe  you  have  drowned  yourself.  It's  not  a 
nice  thing  to  do,  but  I  believe  it's  best  for  you." 

"  I  will  do  as  you  say  in  all  things,"  she  re- 
turned trustfully,  "  I've  no  friend  but  you  now.  I 
shall  see  you  soon  though,  won't  I  ? "  she  added 
anxiously.  "  You  will  send  for  me  in  a  few  days 
won't  you?" 

"  As  soon  as  I  find  the  right  place  to  locate  you 
in,  and  I  think  also  you  had  better  adopt  another 
name  after  you  leave  so  your  escape  can  never  be 
learned  here.  How  would  —  Iva  Stone  suit  you  ?  " 


YO  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

he  continued,  after  a  pause  and  glance  at  a  green- 
clad  rock  near  by.  "  It's  odd  and  pretty  —  like  you 
—  and  I  want  to  separate  you  from  Folly  Island 
and  this  life  absolutely  and  forever.  I  must  give 
you  a  little  more  money,  too,"  he  added,  glancing  at 
the  sun  now  well  down.  "  I  shall  try  to  see  you 
this  evening  at  the  bridge  but  something  may  hap- 
pen to  prevent  and  I  want  to  feel  you  are  well  pro- 
vided for  running  away,  anyhow." 

"  But  I  won't  need  it,"  she  urged,  "  and  I  may 
lose  it." 

"  No  you  won't,  my  dear,"  he  returned,  bluntly, 
"  you  are  too  wise  for  that  Keep  it  hid  till  you  go, 
and  then  put  it  in  the  bosom  of  your  dress.  When 
I  meet  you,"  he  added  encouragingly,  "  I'll  buy  you 
a  pocket  book  and  lots  of  things  you  need." 

He  had  promised  this  helpless  waif  his  aid  and 
friendship  and  that  to  him  meant  the  free  use  of 
his  pocket  book  and  thought  as  well. 

"  I'm  going  to  give  you  fifty  dollars  more,"  he 
continued  after  rising  and  consulting  his  watch, 
"  and  then  I  must  be  going.  It  is  a  half -hour's 
pull  back  for  me  and  almost  supper  time."  Then  he 
counted  out  that  sum  and  handed  to  her. 

"Can't  you  wait  while  I  run  over  to  my  garden 
and  pick  you  some  flowers  ? "  she  asked  wistfully, 


THE    POWER   OF    HOPE  71 

anxious  to  reward  this  hero  somehow.  "  It  won't 
take  me  a  minute." 

"  ~No  thank  you,  Iva,"  he  answered  smiling  at 
her,  "  let  them  live  and  grow  and  enjoy  sunshine. 
And  now  I  think  that  you,  too,  must  hurry  home 
so  there  won't  be  any  suspicion  and  you  are  more 
likely  to  get  out  a  few  moments  this  evening  and 
meet  me."  Then  he  held  out  his  hand  at  parting, 
said  "  Good  bye,  sister  Iva,"  nonchalantly  and  was 
off  to  his  boat  with  but  one  glance  backward  and  a 
tip  of  his  cap  before  he  vanished  over  the  low  cliff. 

And  somehow  Myrtle,  left  alone  beside  her  little 
playhouse,  felt  as  if  her  heart  was  in  that  dainty 
yawl  fast  growing  smaller  up  the  shore  of  Folly 
Island ;  and  all  her  hope,  her  very  life  even,  in  the 
keeping  of  him  who  pulled  it.  Then,  too,  Mark's 
hasty  departure,  his  brusque  refusal  of  her  proffered 
flowers,  and  nonchalant  leave-taking  also  hurt  her, 
for  she  was  unused  to  men's  ways.  And  something 
else  hurt  as  well. 

She  had  never  been  sought  or  wooed  by  men; 
to  her  they  were  as  yet  an  enigma.  But  the  in- 
tuition of  sex  was  in  her,  her  books  had  described 
the  raptures  of  love,  she  had  proffered  her  very 
soul,  almost,  to  this  man,  he  had  praised  her,  some 
by  word  and  more  by  look,  and  yet;  when  she  knew 


2  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

her  utter  faith  and  almost  adoration  must  have 
been  noticed  by  him,  were  his  to  claim  if  he  chose, 
he  had  coolly  ignored  her  mute  offering  and  left  her 
with  just  an  off-hand  "good-bye." 

Little  did  she  realize  how  hard  a  struggle  Mark 
had  had,  not  to  accept  what  he  saw  in  her  eyes,  not 
to  utter  the  sweet  nothings  gallants  ever  do,  or  like 
them,  kiss  and  pet  her  for  momentary  amusement 
with  no  care  for  its  outcome. 


CHAPTER  VII 


MARK  MASON  was  a  practical,  common-sense  man, 
with  only  a  tinge  of  romance  in  him.  His  first  im- 
pulse in  life  had  been  to  make  money  in  order  to 
be  independent  of  all  and  feel  so.  This  perhaps 
arose  from  his  orphaned  start  in  the  world  and  its 
humiliation.  His  first  thought  also  toward  this 
waif  had  been  to  provide  her  with  the  means  of 
escape  from  her  pitiful  condition ;  next  to  secure  some 
respectable  employment  for  her,  in  short,  obtain  for 
her  what  he  most  craved  for  himself  —  independ- 
ence. The  matter  of  sex  and  love  impulse  was  a 
minor  one,  interesting  him  only  in  a  casual  way; 
and  while  he  pitied  her  deeply  on  sight,  almost; 
was  ready  to  give  her  one  hundred  or  one  thousand 
dollars  if  need  be,  and  much  time  and  thought  as 
well ;  to  marry  her  was  quite  beyond  him. 

But  love  is  an  illusion  that  creeps  upon  us  una- 
wares and  like  the  drink  habit.  One  sip  tempts  to 
another,  two  more  make  us  crave  a  continuation,  and 

73 


74  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

BO  on  until  all  life  and  ambition  seem  to  center  upon 
one  person. 

To  Mark  in  the  romantic  nook  where  Myrtle  had 
built  her  playhouse;  with  the  added  charm  of  isola- 
tion and  wave-washed  shore;  she  was,  despite  her 
raiment,  a  sweet  and  fascinating  maid.  This  new 
hope  filled  her  appealing  eyes  with  wondrous  tender- 
ness, her  every  word  and  glance  bespoke  admiration 
and  faith  in  this  hero,  and  he  saw  it  all.  In  a  way 
it  was  very  pleasing  to  him,  as  it  ever  is  to  any 
man,  and  when  he  left  her  —  rather  abruptly  as  was 
his  way  —  the  impress  of  her  eyes  pursued  him  to 
the  yacht.  And  even  here  the  ribald  badinage,  jokes, 
and  jests  of  his  erstwhile  friends  were  not  enough 
to  dispel  it.  More  than  that,  these  seemed  almost 
offensive  now  and  quite  out  of  harmony  with  the 
idyllic  hours  just  passed.  He  stole  away  again  soon 
after  sunset,  using  the  excuse  of  letters  expected  at 
Sandy  Bay,  and  halting  only  to  glance  at  the  make- 
shift wharf  and  old  wreck  protecting  it,  hurried  on 
up  to  the  bridge  half  hoping  Myrtle  would  be  there. 
She  was  not,  however,  and  for  the  first  time  a  wee 
tinge  of  disappointment  came  to  Mark.  He  waited 
here  what  seemed  a  half -hour  —  it  actually  was  ten 
minutes  —  and  then  strode  on  over  to  Sandy  Bay. 
There  was  no  mail  for  him,  he  didn't  expect  any  in 
fact  —  and  his  sole  reward  was  to  be  stared  at  by  the 


THE    TWO    SIDES    OF    LOVE  75 

knot  of  loungers  in  Orton's  store  and  forced  to  parry 
a  few  almost  impertinent  questions  from  that  in- 
quisitive Yankee. 

And  be  it  said  here,  that  group  already  knew  how 
many  composed  the  yachting  party,  and  surmised 
that  Mark  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  "  Cap'n 
Jud's  gal "  also,  and  had  bought  candy  for  her  the 
evening  previous. 

He  escaped  the  store  soon  as  possible  and  return- 
ing was  almost  back  to  the  bridge  when  Myrtle 
popped  out  of  the  bushes  and  met  him. 

And  this  time  he  felt  his  heart  give  one  throb  of 
satisfaction. 

"  You  are  a  sly  little  elf,"  he  said  coming  up  to 
her,  "  Why  did  you  hide  in  the  bushes  again  ?  " 

"  Because  I  wasn't  sure  it  was  you,"  she  answered 
directly,  "  and  you  told  me  to  be  careful.  I  didn't 
want  to  meet  nobody  else.  I  saw  you  go  over  and 
have  been  waiting  ever  since." 

"  And  your  —  Cap'n  Jud,  supposes  you  are  at 
your  playhouse  now,  doesn't  he  ? "  queried  Mark 
smiling  at  her. 

"  I  guess  so,  I  went  down  that  way  first  to  fool 
him,  and  sneaked  back  on  the  shore.  He  knows  I 
am  at  the  playhouse  a  lot." 

"  And  what  would  he  say  and  do  if  he  was  to 
meet  us  now,"  Mark  continued,  clasping  her  arm 


76  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

• 

with   an   ownership   manner   and   starting  for  the 
bridge. 

"  Why,  he'd  cuss  some  and  larrup  me  afterwards," 
she  asserted  positively,  "  but  I  hope  he  won't." 

At  the  bridge  he  halted  to  glance  over  the  moon- 
lit sea  and  then  turned  to  Myrtle.  "  How  long  can 
you  stay  out  safely  ? "  he  asked,  "  and  is  Cap'n  Jud 
liable  to  go  hunting  for  you  ?  " 

"  He  wouldn't  care  if  I  never  come  back.  Only 
if  he  saw  you  with  me  he'd  make  an  awful  fuss. 
He  thinks  all  men  are  bad  and  —  and  there  is  a 
reason  for  it." 

Mark  didn't  pursue  the  subject  for  he,  too,  sur- 
mised the  reasons  for  this  peculiar  condition. 

"  Well,  it  will  end  soon,  in  four  or  five  days,"  he 
continued  soberly,  "  and  for  both  our  sakes,  as  I 
said,  you  must  go  in  such  a  way  that  they  will  think 
you  have  ended  your  life.  It's  quite  an  undertak- 
ing for  you  will  have  to  leave  here  in  the  night,  go 
to  the  railroad  —  its  about  ten  miles  I'm  told  —  and 
follow  that  to  some  station  and  take  a  train.  You 
mustn't  do  it  at  the  Sandy  Bay  one.  I've  thought 
this  all  out  you  see,  Iva,"  he  added,  smiling  at  her 
again,  "  and  it's  going  to  take  courage." 

"  I  know  it,"  she  returned  hesitatingly,  "  but  — 
but  couldn't  you  meet  me  at  the  next  station  from 


THE    TWO    SIDES    OF    LOVE  77 

Sandy  Bay?  I  don't  know  bow  far  that  is,  I  was 
never  up  to  the  railroad  even  ? " 

And  now  the  almost  desperation  of  this  plan  re- 
curred to  him.  Also  that  he,  as  adviser  and  protector 
of  this  hapless  waif,  was  suggesting  what  few  girls 
would  have  courage  to  undertake.  And  yet  he  saw 
no  other  way  of  escape  without  compromising  both. 

"  I  hate  to  have  you  do  this,  little  girl,"  he  said 
gently,  after  thinking  the  matter  over,  "but  I  see 
no  other  way.  Go  alone  you  must,  or  I  be  charged 
with  abduction  and  your  name  sullied.  This  is  the 
plain  fact  of  the  matter  and  no  evading  it  That's 
why  I  say  they  must  be  made  to  think  you  have  com- 
mitted suicide." 

"  I  know  it,"  she  faltered,  "  and  I  am  willing  to 
go  that  way.  I  ain't  afraid  of  the  dark,  or  if  I  go 
soon  the  moon  will  help  me  some.  Only,"  she  added 
pleadingly,  "  if  you  was  going  to  meet  me  at  the 
station  I  wouldn't  mind  so  much." 

"  I  shall  meet  you  at  a  point  further  on,"  he  re- 
turned encouragingly,  "  and  take  care  of  you  after 
that."  He  never  once  thought  now  how  this  part 
of  the  plan  —  it's  one  weak  link  —  would  fail  him 
and  her  and  bring  about  a  most  pitiful  complication. 

"  And  now  I'll  explain  my  own  plans,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  Frank  is  going  off  for  a  day's  cruise  to- 


78  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

morrow  and  I  must  go  also,  but  I  shall  try  to  meet 
you  here  in  the  evening  again,  however.  I  think  he 
will  sail  for  the  city  next  day  and  I  may  go  with  him 
or  else,  as  I  said,  take  the  train  and  go  to  Good  Will 
to  see  Mr.  Hinckley.  In  either  case  I  shall  find 
some  place  for  you  within  a  week  and  write  you.  I 
may  do  so  sooner." 

And  even  now  it  did  not  occur  to  him,  shrewd  busi- 
ness man  that  he  was,  that  this  plan  of  notification 
by  letter  and  meeting  of  this  girl,  totally  unused  to 
rail  travel,  was  an  almost  idiotic  one,  and  might  fail 
to  connect.  He  had  thought  of  her  good  name  and 
how  to  protect  it,  her  certain  need  of  money  and  how 
to  keep  it  safe,  but  not  of  the  risk  of  a  letter  going 
astray,  or  how  she,  never  having  seen  a  train  of  cars 
even,  might  take  the  wrong  one  or  go  in  the  wrong 
direction.  She  thought  of  these  things,  however, 
but  was  too  proud  or  unwilling  to  show  timidity,  to 
speak  of  them. 

"  I  will  do  just  as  you  say,"  she  now  said  obedi- 
ently, "  and  Mr.  Orton  will  give  me  your  letter,  I 
guess.  Will  it  be  to  my  right  name  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,"  he  returned  in  surprise. 
" '  Miss  Myrtle  Baldwin,  Sandy  Bay/  and  remem- 
ber don't  lose  my  card  in  case  anything  happens,  or 
your  money.  I  shall  probably  write  you  to  meet  me 


THE,   TWO    SIDES    OF   LOVE  79 

at  B.  Junction,  on  the  morning  train  from  Sandy 
Bay  and  after  that  you  needn't  worry." 

A  nice,  plain,  off-hand,  easy  plan  to  a  man  like 
Mark  accustomed  to  travel;  but  foolish  one  for 
Myrtle,  whose  life  and  world  had  been  bounded  by 
Folly  Island  and  Sandy  Bay ! 

And  now  glancing  at  the  somewhat  worried  face 
beside  him  Mark  realized  more  than  ever  how  almost 
desperate  a  step  she  was  planning,  or  rather  he  for 
her.  Also  the  courage  needful  to  undertake  it. 

"  I  wish  I  dared  meet  you  at  Sandy  Bay,  or  even 
at  its  railroad  station,"  he  continued,  "  but  it  would 
absolutely  ruin  your  name  as  you  must  see.  I  am 
also  aware  that  it  will  try  your  nerves  to  face  ten  or 
perhaps  fifteen  miles  of  lonely,  woodsy  roads,  at 
night,  and  you  mustn't  go  through  Sandy  Bay  either. 
Once  you  reach  the  railroad  the  rest  is  easy,  how- 
ever. Just  follow  it  to  a  station,  keep  shady  till  a 
west-bound  train  comes  along,  jump  aboard,  pay  your 
fare  to  B.  to  the  conductor  and  I'll  look  out  for  you 
there." 

It  seemed  a  little  easier  now  to  poor  untravelled 
Myrtle  who  hated  to  admit  her  complete  ignorance, 
and  she  looked  up  and  smiled  into  this  hero's  face 
with  hopeful  gratitude.  And  in  that  glance  was 
assurance  that  she  had  now  confided  to  him  her  fu- 


80  MYRTLE 

ture,  her  name,  her  honor,  her  life  almost!  And 
so  she  had ! 

Then  another  risk  she  was  to  face  in  her  new  life 
occurred  to  Mark,  who,  despite  his  many  excellent 
attributes,  was  like  all  his  class  fond  of  talking  and 
prone  to  give  advice. 

"  I  think,  my  dear  girl,"  he  now  added,  "  we'd 
best  sit  down  for  I've  something  else  to  tell  you," 
and  having  led  her  to  a  convenient  bank  beside  the 
bridge  he  began  it. 

"  You  are,  I  am  aware,"  he  continued,  "  a  rather 
romantic  young  girl  who  has  never  come  in  contact 
with  the  world  in  any  manner  at  all.  You  know  a 
few  people  at  Sandy  Bay  no  doubt;  simple  fisher 
folk  who  are  not  much  better  informed;  you  have 
read  a  curious  medley  of  books,  some  of  them,  those 
of  one  author  especially,  of  no  benefit  and  possible 
harm;  and  from  these  you  have  obtained  a  highly 
colored  fictitious  and  sentimental  idea  of  love  and 
the  relations  of  men  and  women.  In  some  of  these 
books  you  have  read  men  are  portrayed  as  either 
almost  God-like  or  fiends  incarnate.  Worse  than 
that,  they  have  assured  you  —  I  speak  plainly  — 
that  amours,  intrigues,  and  seduction,  are  the  chief 
end  and  aim  of  even  the  noblest  heroes,  which  is  a 
base  libel  on  the  majority  of  men.  The  heroines  are 
as  distorted,  either  immaculate  angels  of  superhuman 


THE   TWO    SIDES    OF   LOVE  81 

fortitude,  or  else  women  absolutely  without  honor. 
Some  of  the  other  books  are  not  much  better,  less 
sentimental  but  equally  false  and  overdrawn  so  far  as 
love  is  concerned.  To  overbalance  this  you  have  read 
a  few  books  whose  ideals  are  the  purest  and  noblest 
possible  to  conceive,  and  well  worthy  of  emulating. 
But  collectively  you  have  obtained  an  overdrawn  and 
false  idea  of  the  world's  people.  Now  you  are  going 
out  into  the  world,  a  handsome  young  girl,  innocent, 
untutored,  and  confiding.  This  I  know  by  the  way 
you  have  trusted  me  on  sight,  almost.  Now  men 
are  not  all  base,  yet  most  of  them  are  attracted  by  a 
pretty  face  at  once  and  two-thirds  of  them,  given 
even  a  shade  of  encouragement,  will  pursue  it  for 
absolutely  selfish  and  carnal  reasons.  You  will  meet 
them  everywhere,  they  will  begin  to  flatter  you  with 
almost  the  first  words  they  utter,  will  keep  it  up  so 
long  as  they  see  it  is  making  the  least  impression, 
and  all  for  the  same  end  and  purpose;  no  benefit  to 
you.  You,  on  the  other  hand,  needing  friends  (if 
ever  a  poor,  hapless  girl  did,  you  do),  and  half 
scared  of  the  new  world  you  are  in,  will  insensibly 
trust  all  who  speak  fair  and  will  surely  find  yourself 
mistaken  in  so  doing.  And  so  I  warn  you  now, 
never  trust  any  flattering  words  or  men  who  dole 
them  out  to  you  one  moment,  never,  never,  never! 
Not  all  men  are  of  evil  intention,  however.  A  few 


82  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

may  and  will  flatter  you  just  to  make  you  feel  good, 
as  it  were,  and  mean  well.  Also,  and  so  long  as  you 
respect  yourself  and  your  own  dignity,  they  will  re- 
spect you. 

"  Now,  on  the  other  hand,  you  will  find  women, 
younger  ones  especially,  are  by  nature  your  enemies 
solely  from  jealousy.  They  will  criticise  your  dress, 
your  speech,  your  manners,  your  conduct  more  par- 
ticularly, without  mercy  and  for  the  reason  that  all 
women  with  even  a  tithe  of  beauty  consider  a  pos- 
sibly better-looking  one  a  competitor  in  the  attrac- 
tion of  men.  To  this  end  and  for  this  reason  your 
conduct  toward  men  will  be  the  one  thing  they  will 
sneer  at  first,  last,  and  always,  without  charity  or 
even  justice.  Middle-aged  or  married  women  have 
less  of  this  sex-animosity  and  more  charity.  Some 
of  them  may  prove  real,  sincere,  kindly  friends,  and 
well  worthy  of  confidence  but  beware  of  the  young 
and  good-looking  ones,  never  give  them  a  chance  to 
suspect  you  to  be  anything  but  a  good,  modest  girl, 
or  they  will  tear  you  limb  from  limb,  as  it  were,  be- 
hind your  back. 

"  Knowing  this  as  I  do  —  and  I  have  observed 
womankind  critically  for  many  years  —  I  realize  I 
must  find  you  some  family  where  you  can  have  a  sort 
of  home  protection  and  motherly  care.  Also  at  the 
same  time  earn  your  living.  I  mentioned  mill  work 


THE   TWO    SIDES    OF    LOVE  83 

to  you  yesterday  but  on  second  thought  that  is  a 
slavery  worse  than  your  life  here  and  won't  do  at  all. 
Again  your  lack  of  education  —  I  mean  it  without 
offense  —  will  prevent  your  obtaining  any  except 
menial  employment  at  first.  Later  you  may  find 
something  better,  maybe.  And  here  again  I  have  a 
hard  task,  for  to  obtain  your  admission  into  a  home 
fit  for  you  I  must  do  it  without  compromising  you 
in  any  way.  If  I  were  a  little  older  I  might  pose  as 
your  uncle,  as  it  is  I  can't  and  must  be  very  diplo- 
matic and  cautious.  I  think  I  can  bring  it  about, 
however." 

"  I  don't  know  how  I  can  pay  you  for  all  you  are 
doing  for  me,"  Myrtle  interrupted,  sadly,  "  or  ever 
earn  enough  to  give  you  back  your  money.  I  won't 
spend  a  penny  I'm  not  obliged  to,  anyways."  Then 
she  glanced  out  over  the  wide  undulating  ocean  and 
its  moonlit  path  and  sighed.  "  I  guess  you'd  best 
give  it  up,"  she  added  after  a  pause,  "  and  I'll  stay 
here.  I've  got  used  to  being  hated  now  and  some 
day  I  may  die.  I  did  want  to  run  away,  but  now 
you  have  discouraged  me."  Then  she  bit  her  lips 
and  swallowed  a  sob. 

"  Nonsense,"  returned  Mark  bluntly.  "  I  don't 
care  a  picayune  for  the  money  or  ten  times  the 
amount,  and  never  expect  you  will  pay  it  back  or 
want  you  to.  As  for  the  rest,  it's  a  mere  nothing  for 


84  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

me  to  do,  for  I've  had  harder  problems  to  solve  in  my 
life,  and  did  it,  too.  All  I  meant  was  to  warn  you  of 
what  you  must  expect  in  the  world."  And  now  once 
more  looking  slyly  at  the  girl  beside  him,  a  dejected, 
forlorn  figure,  with  face  in  hands  and  looking  ocean- 
ward,  he  again  felt  an  almost  resistless  impulse  to 
clasp  her  in  his  arms,  say  "  Be  my  wife  little  girl, 
I'll  take  care  of  you,"  and  thus  cut  the  Gordian  knot 
by  tying  another  one. 

But  he  didn't. 

Instead,  and  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart,  he 
gave  her  more  encouragement.  "  I  don't  want  you 
to  feel  obligated  to  me  one  iota,"  he  said  buoyantly, 
"  for  you  are  not  We  are  two  parentless  waifs  in 
this  world,  brother  and  sister  as  I  feel  and  said  to 
you,  and  to-night,  now,  I  thank  God  I  came  here  and 
found  you.  Also  that  I  can,  as  I  shall,  stand  by  you 
and  land  you  in  a  better  life  and  some  sunshine.  I 
mean  it  with  all  my  heart  and  soul,  so  cheer  up,  little 
girl,  you  may  be  happy  yet" 

And  at  that  moment  to  poor  despised  Myrtle  Bald- 
win, the  waif  of  Folly  Island,  it  seemed  as  if  God 
had  spoken  words  of  consolation,  aye,  held  out  the 
hand  of  rescue  to  her!  One  look,  too,  she  gave 
Mark  at  this  moment,  a  quick  flash  of  mute  adora- 
tion, and  soulful  gratitude  such  as  a  dog  sometimes 


THE    TWO    SIDES    OF   LOVE  85 

gives  his  master.  But  not  a  word.  She  dared  not 
trust  words  now,  her  heart  was  too  full  for  that. 

And  then;  just  at  this  moment  of  soul  renuncia- 
tion, this  instant  when  to  be  clasped  in  his  arms 
wrould  be  to  enter  Heaven ;  it  came  to  her  that  she  was 
unfit  for  that  honor.  That  this  hero,  while  a  new 
kind  friend  (brother  as  he  claimed),  wanted  no  more 
than  obedience  from  her  and  not  love,  her  body  and 
soul.  And  now  somehow  a  shame  for,  and  detesta- 
tion of  her  own  heart-craving  came  to. her,  and  her 
face  and  neck  grew  crimson.  She  had  no  beauty 
in  her  own  eyes  or  pride  in  it.  To  herself  she  was 
an  ill-clad,  shamefully  born,  ignorant,  and  despised 
creature  not  fit  for  this  god-like  hero  in  any  way. 
A  much-soiled  drudge  as  he  had  seen  her  to  be,  and 
so  despicable  as  to  be  insulted  before  his  very  eyes 
as  she  had  been.  Mark  —  preoccupied  in  thought  at 
this  moment  and  watching  the  moonlit  ocean  — 
also  gave  her  another  suggestion  in  this  line  by  his 
manner  so  expressive  of  indifference.  Twice  before 
he  had  said  first  "  It's  time  for  you  to  leave  me," 
and  recalling  this  with  all  else  that  made  her  blush 
she  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  I  guess  I'd  better  go  home  now,"  she  said 
directly,  "  it's  getting  late  and  if  Gran'father  wakes 
up  when  I  go  in — you  know  what  I'll  get."  And 


86  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

Mark  consulting  his  watch  gave  a  low  whistle  for 
it  was  almost  midnight. 

"  I  guess  you  had,"  he  asserted,  innocent  of  all 
her  self-reproaches,  "  I  don't  want  you  to  have  trou- 
ble. I'll  see  you  in  the  afternoon  to-morrow,  or  in 
the  evening  here.  Or,  if  I  don't,  then  watch  for  a 
letter."  And  locking  his  arm  in  hers,  lover-like 
again,  he  led  her  down  the  path. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear,"  he  said  tenderly,  when 
the  parting  moment  came  with  its  kiss-inspiring  al- 
lurement, "  and  remember  all  I've  told  you."  Then 
with  another  "  Good-night,  sweet  dreams,  little 
girl,"  he  strode  away. 


CHAPTEE  VIII 

THE   MISFORTUNE  OF  CHANCE 

WHAT  the  plans  of  mice  may  be  none  can  tell, 
but  those  of  men  and  women,  too,  are  as  elusive  as 
their  shadows.  Mark  Mason's  were  so  at  least,  for 
when  he  parted  from  the  girl  his  heart  had  grown 
so  tender  towards  that  never-to-be-forgotten  moonlit 
eve,  he  surely  expected  to  meet  her  again  either  the 
next  afternoon  or  evening.  But  he  did  not. 

To  begin  with,  Frank,  as  expected,  decided  the 
next  morning  to  take  a  run  seaward  and  visit  a  far- 
out  island  and  Mark  perforce  felt  obliged  to  go  also. 
This  island  upon  which  two  score  or  more  fisher- 
folk  dwelt  in  even  greater  simplicity  than  those  of 
Sandy  Bay;  with  its  turkey-coop  houses;  its  cliff- 
like  shores,  sentinel  lighthouse,  and  pitiful  make- 
shift of  ways  and  means  kept  the  party  interested 
until  late  in  the  afternoon.  On  the  return  Frank 
concluded  again  to  anchor  in  Folly  Cove,  and  so 
at  almost  sunset  Mark  once  more  found  himself 
scanning  the  island  where  his  new  protege  lived, 
and  regretting  that  he  had  been  unable  to  meet  her 

87 


88  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

at  her  unique  playhouse.  The  evening  tryst  was 
possible,  however,  and  at  just  dusk  and  again  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  excuse  to  visit  Sandy  Bay  to  ob- 
tain mail  he  rowed  ashore.  This  time  also  for  oc- 
cult reasons  of  his  own  he  landed  in  a  small  cove 
on  the  mainland  above  and  opposite  Cap'n  Jud's 
wharf  and  striking  across  the  rock-ribbed,  bush- 
grown  upland,  reached  Sandy  Bay  thus  circuitously. 
Here  again  his  plans  of  returning  in  time  to  keep 
the  second  appointment  were  all  upset,  by  a  late 
train  and  breakdown  of  Barney's  worn-out  carry- 
all, and  it  was  after  nine  before  Mark  obtained  the 
letters  he  really  expected  this  time,  and  started  for 
Folly  Island.  The  moon,  now  four  days  past  its 
full,  was  just  rising  when  he  reached  the  hilltop 
where  he  could  see  the  bridge  and  here  he  halted 
his  rapid  steps  and  stood  transfixed.  And  well  he 
might,  for  there  on  the  bridge  below,  scarce  forty 
rods  away  stood  the  girl  he  wanted  to  meet  and 
beside  her  —  Frank! 

He  could  see  them  both  plain  enough  in  the  moon- 
light. 

Myrtle  was  leaning  over  the  rail,  with  her  face 
turned  away  from  her  companion,  while  he  was  evi- 
dently pouring  into  her  ear  all  the  sweet  flatteries 
Mark  knew  him  to  be  past-master  of.  Mark  would 
have  scorned  to  be  an  eavesdropper  or  spy  upon  any 


THE    MISFORTUNE    OF    CHANCE  89 

one,  but  the  wave  of  mingled  chagrin,  anger,  jeal- 
ousy, wrath  almost,  that  now  surged  over  his  feel- 
ings held  him  spell-bound.  Then  suddenly  the  two 
figures  seemed  to  merge  into  one  for  an  instant,  to 
separate  as  quickly,  and  the  girl  darted  from  the 
bridge  and  ran  down  the  road  like  a  scared  deer. 

And  never  in  his  life  before  had  Mark  felt  so 
sudden  a  sense  of  satisfaction  as  at  this  moment! 
His  next  act  was  to  squat  down  and  watch  the  dis- 
comfited Frank  follow  the  road  back  to  the  land- 
ing and  not  once  did  Mark  lose  sight  of  him  until 
he  reached  it  and  pulled  away  for  the  yacht.  Then 
Mark,  inspired  by  a  ray  of  hope  that  the  girl  would 
try  once  more  to  meet  him  descended  to  the  bridge, 
lit  a  cigar,  and  for  one  long  impatient  hour  waited 
and  watched  for  her  in  vain.  By  this  time  also  it 
had  dawned  on  him  that  this  fisher-maid  of  faultless 
form,  and  grotesque  raiment;  for  whom  he  had 
opened  his  heart  a  little  and  pocket-book  more;  had 
become  of  unexpected  value  to  him.  To  wait 
longer  was  hopeless,  however,  and  so  he  retraced  his 
steps  up  the  hill  and  across  lots  to  his  boat.  And 
now  it  seemed  as  if  all  manner  of  petty  vexations 
came  his  way  for  he  blundered  into  thickets  of  Mo- 
hawk briars  every  rod  or  two,  missed  his  footing 
twice  in  the  dubious  moonlight  and  went  sprawling 
among  the  rocks  and  when,  scratched,  bruised,  and 


90  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

mad  all  over,  he  reached  his  boat  the  falling  tide 
had  left  it  two  rods  from  the  water  with  consequent 
injury  to  trousers  and  shoes  when  launching  it. 

"  Well,  you  look  as  if  you'd  been  digging  clams 
and  mad  enough  to  eat  'em,  shells  and  all,"  was 
Frank's  salutation  when  Mark  entered  the  cabin 
where  the  party  was  as  usual  playing  poker. 
"  What  kept  you  so  long  3  " 

"  Waiting  for  the  mail,"  Mark  growled,  "  and  to 
save  distance  I  rowed  up  the  coast  and  left  my  boat 
nearer  Sandy  Bay;  I  found  her  two  rods  out  of 
water  on  a  mud  bank." 

For  a  moment  Frank  eyed  him  keenly,  then  a 
diabolical  grin  spread  over  his  face.  "  Tried  to 
be  real  foxy,  old  man,  didn't  you  ? "  he  said 
sauvely,  "  but  you  got  left.  We  found  out  all  about 
this  Cap'n  Jud's  gal  last  night  over  at  Sandy  Bay 
—  the  one  you've  been  after  ever  since  we  got  here, 
so  you  might  as  well  own  up." 

Mark  glanced  from  one  to  another  of  the  group 
who  were  now  all  watching  him  but  his  face  gave 
no  sign. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right,  my  dear  fellow,"  Frank  con- 
tinued, winking  at  the  rest,  "  for  she's  a  stunner 
with  lips  like  two  cherries.  Had  a  date  with  her 
at  the  bridge  too,  didn't  you,  so  she  told  me?  But 
I  got  there  first  and  cut  you  out.  Also  a  nice  hug 


THE    MISFORTUNE    OF    CHANCE  91 

and  kiss  to  pay  for  being  on  time.  She  said  she 
had  waited  for  you  long  enough." 

It  was  vicious,  even  merciless  raillery,  and  false 
every  word  of  it  as  Mark  knew  full  well,  and  his 
first  impulse  was  to  say  "  You  lie,"  and  tell  of  the 
scene  he  had  witnessed.  But  caution  and  protec- 
tion for  this  girl  prevailed. 

"  You  grow  positively  more  and  more  addle-pated 
every  day,  Frank,"  he  said  instead,  "  and  your 
parents  ought  to  put  you  in  a  sanitarium.  Of 
course  I've  seen  this  young  lady  of  the  island  and 
so  might  you  if  you  hadn't  been  poker-mad  all  the 
time.  If  I'd  had  a  date  with  her  to-night  I'd  have 
kept  it  and  not  been  the  fool  I  was  to  row  a  mile 
inshore  to  save  walking.  You  have  another  guess 
coming,  Frank.  Next  time  also  you  spring  an  ab- 
solute lie  on  anybody  try  a  plausible  one.  I'll  bet 
you  ten  dollars  you've  never  set  eyes  on  this  girl," 
and  then  to  save  discussion  he  stalked  out  of  the 
cabin. 

But  the  day  of  this  denouement  had  been  one  long 
torture  for  Myrtle.  For  some  unknown  reason  her 
grandfather  had  grown  suspicious  of  her  and  had 
waited  up  and  watched  for  her  return  the  evening 
previous  to  greet  her  with  sharp  questions  and,  on 
her  stubborn  refusal  to  answer,  with  curses  as 
hearty  and  deep  as  the  sea  whence  they  came.  He 


92  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

had  also  given  her  a  lot  of  needless  work  the  next 
day  with  assurance  that  if  he  had  further  suspicions 
that  she  sneaked  off  to  meet  "  one  o'  them  popin- 
jay yachters  "  he  would  flog  her  till  the  blood  came. 
In  spite  of  all  that,  she  quit  her  work  the  moment 
he  was  well  away  on  his  afternoon  fishing  trip  and 
ran  to  her  playhouse.  A  long,  weary,  disconsolate 
wait  here  until  she  saw  the  yacht  return  was  her 
reward,  and  then  when  eight  o'clock  came  she  dared 
the  threatened  whipping  to  steal  away  to  the  bridge. 

And  here,  after  another  hour  of  lonely  watching 
for  Mark,  who  came  not,  and  until  she  was  ready  to 
cry  from  the  combined  misery,  a  strange  young  man 
walked  up  on  the  bridge  and  accosted  her. 

"  You  are  waiting  for  some  one,  my  pretty  maid, 
I  guess,"  he  said  boldly,  raising  his  cap,  "  and  I 
know  who  'tis.  But  he  can't  come  and  I'm  here  to 
take  his  place." 

"  You  are ! "  she  answered  scared  and  off  her 
guard ;  "  who  sent  you  and  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  I'm  from  the  yacht,  too,"  he  responded, 
stepping  close  to  her  beside  the  rail,  "  and  Mark's 
friend,  so  its  all  right.  He  had  to  go  to  Sandy  Bay. 

"  And  so  you  are  the  charming  fisher-maid  Mark 
has  been  deserting  us  for  the  last  few  days,"  he 
added  with  characteristic  effrontery  and  bold  gaze; 
"  well,  I  can't  blame  him.  You  are  a  bute." 


THE    MISFORTUNE    OF    CHANCE  93 

It  was  an  insolent  speech,  actually  insulting  and 
even  this  unsophisticated  girl  so  construed  it,  and 
colored  with  shame.  She  recovered  in  a  moment 
however,  and  met  his  stare  with  a  defiant  look.  "  I 
don't  know  who  you  are,"  she  responded,  taking  a 
step  backward,  "  and  I  don't  believe  he  —  I  mean 
anyone  sent  you." 

"  Oh  yes,  he  did,"  Frank  laughed,  "  and  I've 
heard  all  about  you.  My  name's  Goodnow,  Frank 
Goodnow,  and  I  own  the  yacht  you've  seen  here.  I 
got  acquainted  with  your  friend  Miss  Lee  last  eve 
at  Sandy  Bay  and  she  told  me  all  about  you,  so  you 
see  it's  all  right." 

But  this  adroit  mingling  of  truth  and  fiction 
failed  quite  to  convince  Myrtle.  She  was  here  to 
meet  Mark.  She  knew  he  had  gone  to  Sandy  Bay 
for  she  had  seen  him  pull  ashore  and  was  certain 
he  never  would  so  betray  her  or  send  a  substitute 
and  so  to  end  this  interview  she  now  turned  ab- 
ruptly away  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  bridge 
and  Frank  followed. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Miss  Myrtle  Baldwin,  don't  be 
offish,"  he  said  coaxingly,  "  let's  be  sociable  and 
get  acquainted.  I'm  going  to  take  your  friend 
Cindy  out  for  a  sail  to-morrow  eve,  and  she  wanted 
to  have  me  invite  you.  You'll  go,  won't  you  ? " 

Visions  of  her  grandfather's  wrath  and  a  black 


94  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

whip  she  had  many  times  felt,  flashed  over  her 
mind  together  with  a  sense  of  shame  for  her  friend 
"  Cindy."  She  knew  what  Cindy  was.  She  knew 
that  she  bore  a  rather  bad  name  in  Sandy  Bay,  and 
was  considered  free  and  easy  with  men,  and  all  this 
confused  and  mortified  her.  But  her  good  sense 
kept  her  lips  closed. 

"  You  might  as  well  be  in  the  game,"  Frank  con- 
tinued, suavely,  "  and  have  some  fun  with  us.  Two 
of  the  boys  play  banjos  and  sing,  I'll  open  wine,  so 
come,  say  you  will  go,"  and  now  close  beside  her 
this  puppy  perked  his  face  around  to  peer  into  hers. 

And  all  the  time  she  was  growing  more  confused 
and  scared.  Also  angry. 

Mark  was  to  meet  her  here  this  evening;  he  had 
promised.  It  was  now  half -past  nine  she  guessed, 
it  certainly  seemed  that  she  had  been  waiting  two 
hours,  there  was  trouble  also  brewing  at  home  she 
knew  full  well,  and  to  crown  all  her  vexations  here 
was  this  insolent  young  fellow  in  the  way  and  in- 
sulting her! 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  stay  here  and  bother  me," 
she  exclaimed  finally  turning  to  him,  her  eyes  blaz- 
ing as  her  wrath  rose.  "  And  I  won't  go  on  your 
boat.  I  wish  you'd  go  away  and  mind  your  own 
business." 

Almost  any  fellow  except  a  callous  rake  like  this 


THE    MISFORTUNE    OF    CHANCE  95 

one  would  have  done  so ;  but  Frank  was  not  so  to  be 
shaken  off. 

"  Come,  come,  my  sweet  little  mermaid,  don't  let 
your  angry  passions  rise,"  he  said  soothingly, 
"  Mark  won't  sh6w  up,  I'm  dead  sure.  I'll  bet  he's 
making  love  to  your  friend  Cindy  now,  so  you  and 
I  might  as  well  follow  suit.  Just  for  a  starter  now, 
come  give  me  a  kiss,"  and  he  followed  the  insult 
with  an  attempt  to  clasp  her.  It  was  the  last  straw 
—  witnessed  by  Mark  —  and  she  turned  on  the  in- 
stant and  fled  from  the  bridge. 

And  Frank  Goodnow,  smooth-tongued,  nervy 
young  Lothario  that  he  was,  and  always  keen  enough 
to  adapt  his  persuasions  to  the  credulity  of  his  vic- 
tims, realized  that  he  had  failed  in  this  case  and 
returned  to  the  yacht.  But  he  resolved  to  try  it 
once  more. 

When  morning  dawned  again  it  brought  a  shift 
in  wind  and  weather  signs  and  Cap'n  Sim  made 
haste  to  get  up  steam  and  start  for  the  safe  anchor- 
age of  Sandy  Bay.  Mark  was  the  only  one  of  the 
party  up  and  out  when  the  yacht  got  under  way  and 
stood  near  the  stern  scanning  Folly  Island.  It  was 
early,  too,  a  little  after  four,  and  he  scarce  hoped 
the  girl  he  was  fast  falling  in  love  with  was  yet 
awake.  That  she  was  and  also  watching  was  soon 
evinced  by  the  flutter  of  a  bit  of  white  from  an 


96  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

upper  window  of  her  home,  which  Mark  returned 
with  sudden  eagerness. 

And  many  times  afterwards  he  recalled  that  mute 
good-bye,  linking  thought  with  thought,  and  always 
with  a  pang. 

For  over  night,  and  after  calm  consideration  for 
this  girl  and  his  own  relation  to  her,  he  had  decided 
not  to  try  to  see  her  here  again,  but  quit  the  party 
at  once  and  take  upon  himself  the  duty  of  finding 
her  a  home.  He  had  thought  his  plans  all  out  in 
the  seclusion  of  his  stateroom  while  the  rest  forgot 
him  in  gambling,  also  his  excuse  for  leaving  them 
so  abruptly,  to  whom  he  would  first  go  to,  then  next, 
where  he  would  notify  Myrtle  to  meet  him,  and  all 
the  method  of  this  quite  innocent  elopement.  Be- 
yond that  also  had  come  the  half-formed  conclusion 
that  the  outcome  of  this  would  be  —  a  marriage. 

And  why  not?  This  girl  was  handsome  enough 
to  mean  that  in  almost  any  young  bachelor's  eyes! 
She  had  a  rugged  honesty  of  purpose,  and  good 
horse  sense  which  he  knew  would  win  in  the  long 
run.  Her  soul  was  attuned  to  the  bold  rocky  cliffs 
of  her  island  home  and  the  grand  old  ocean  voice. 
She  had  sentiment  enough  to  love  flowers,  feed  the 
sea  gulls  and  build  herself  a  romantic  little  castle 
to  read  and  dream  dreams  in.  She  also  was  daunt- 


THE    MISFORTUNE    OF    CHANCE  97 

less  in  her  courage,  ready  to  cut  loose  from  all  whom 
she  knew  and  face  the  world  alone. 

Her  sublime  faith  in  him  also  touched  his  feel- 
ings; she  was  like  a  child  believing  in  its  father 
and  ready  to  accept  his  direction  in  all  things.  All 
she  needed  was  more  education  and  the  refinement 
which  association  with  well-bred  people  would  soon 
give  and  —  suitable  raiment.  The  question  of  her 
birth  was  one  Mark  never  even  thought  of,  or  if  at 
all,  with  satisfaction  at  its  kinship  with  that  of  his 
own.  All  this  had  been  meditated  upon  that  night, 
and  now  again  as  the  yacht  made  its  detour  around 
Folly  Island  and  into  Sandy  Bay;  and  when  the 
rest  came  on  deck  Mark  was  the  same  cool,  collected, 
business-like  fellow  as  usual,  and  also  one  who  had 
apparently  forgotten  Folly  Island. 

"  I  shall  be  obliged  to  shake  your  pleasant  com- 
pany and  the  yacht  to-day,"  he  said  to  Frank  in  his 
off-hand,  decisive  manner.  "  I  got  some  important 
mail  last  evening,  some  matters  need  my  immedi- 
ate attention  and,  much  against  my  wishes,  I  shall 
have  to  leave  you.  Its  a  handy  chance,  too,  for 
after  breakfast  one  of  the  sailors  can  set  me  ashore 
and  I  can  get  carried  to  the  railroad." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  old  man,"  Frank  responded  in 
a  tone  that  belied  his  words,  and  for  selfish  reasons, 


98  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

and  then  they  went  below  for  the  morning  meal. 
It  was  an  almost  silent  and  half  surly  one,  for  all 
except  Mark  had  stuck  to  the  card  table  until  the 
wee  small  hours,  a  good  deal  of  beer  and  whiskey 
had  been  consumed,  and  the  gamblers  all  had  head- 
aches, and  a  "  dark  brown  taste."  They  all  shook 
hands  with  Mark  at  parting  in  the  perfunctory  way 
of  those  not  kin  to  us,  and  he  was  honestly  glad  to 
go.  He  had  joined  them  not  because  he  liked  such 
a  roystering  lot  of  "  Injuns  "  but  to  enjoy  an  ouir 
ing  trip  on  the  yacht.  Frank  —  also  conscious  of 
this  perhaps  —  added  a  thorn  to  the  leave-taking 
with  a  "  Ta-ta,  old  man,  see  you  in  the  city  and  tell 
you  how  much  fun  we  had  with  your  pretty  fisher 
maid.  I  shall  see  her  to-night  dead  sure." 

And  Mark  as  he  was  rowed  shoreward  felt  to 
murder  this  insulting  fellow  Frank,  and  almost 
swore  he  would  never  again  speak  to  him. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A    CELTIC    NEWS   AGENT 

"  BE  gorra  I  s'pose  ye  hate  to  be  lavin'  such  a 
foine  boat,"  quoth  Barney  McCann  to  Mark  as  the 
two  started  early  that  morning  for  the  railroad  sta- 
tion ten  miles  away,  for  this  village  stage  driver  — 
loquacious  as  a  chattering  ape  he  much  resembled, 
inquisitive  as  a  country  town  gossip-gatherer  — 
knew  all  that  was  doing  in  Sandy  Bay,  and  to  pass 
the  time  also  doled  it  out  to  all  strangers  who  ar- 
rived or  departed  in  his  ancient  carryall. 

"  An'  ye  must  hev  greeat  fun,"  he  added,  "  wid 
dhrinkin'  an'  singin'  and  playin'  cards  all  the  toime. 
An'  by  that  same  token  I'd  like  to  be  ownin'  sich 
a  boat  as  ye  come  in  meself,  shure  I  wud." 

"  It's  not  mine,"  answered  Mark  bluntly,  "  I  am 
merely  a  guest  on  board  and  had  to  return  to  the 
city." 

"  I  made  shure  ye  war  the  owner,"  Barney  re- 
turned, squinting  at  Mark,  "  ye  hov  that  manner 
wid  ye.  An'  thar's  a  gal  here  she  said  she  got  to 

99 


100  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

know  the  Cap'n  an'  he  was  a  handsome  young  feller, 
she  said." 

"  You've  kissed  the  Blarney  Stone,  all  right," 
laughed  Mark. 

"  An'  ye  got  credit  fer  kissin'  the  gal,  so  ye  did," 
returned  Barney  also  laughing,  "  an'  she  seemed 
proud  o'  that  opporchunity.  Did  ye  see  much  o' 
Cap'n  Jud  an'  his  gal  while  ye  war  lyin'  down  be 
Folly  Cove,"  he  added,  returning  to  his  mission  of 
news  gathering,  "  an'  if  ye  did  what  do  ye  think 
o'  her  ? " 

"  I  saw  Cap'n  Jud  twice  and  the  girl  once  at  her 
work,"  Mark  responded  stiffly,  not  at  all  desirous 
of  being  thus  quizzed.  "  Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Well,  bekase  he's  sich  a  brute  an'  the  gal,  shure 
she  has  a  hard  life  wid  him,  an'  I  thought  ye'd  be 
tellin'  yer  own  opinions." 

"  I  haven't  any,"  answered  Mark  in  still  chilly 
tone  and  determined  to  keep  this  girl  out  of  the 
discussion.  "  I  saw  Cap'n  Jud  once  close  to  and 
several  times  at  a  distance,  and  bought  some  lob- 
sters of  him.  Does  he  make  a  good  living  there  ?  " 

"  Dom  poor,"  returned  Barney  bluntly,  "  an'  no- 
body's sorry  —  on  that  score.  Only  for  the  wim- 
men,  they  do  be  stharved,  they  do,  an'  the  gal,  she 
has  no  clothes  fit  to  be  seen  an'  goes  barefoot  till 
snow  comes." 


A    CELTIC    NEWS    AGENT  101 

But  Mark  made  no  response.  He  wouldn't  dis- 
cuss this  unfortunate  girl  whose  situation  was  now 
well  known  to  him,  certainly  not  with  this  lo- 
quacious Irishman  bent  on  quizzing  him,  and  so  he 
lapsed  into  silence.  It  made  no  difference  to  Bar- 
ney, however.  He  had  a  hearer  to  talk  to  and  this 
was  to  him  as  the  breath  of  life  and  so  he  rattled 
on  for  that  entire  ten  miles  without  one  moment's 
cessation  until  Mark  felt  he  would  like  to  strangle 
him  and  then  throw  him  into  some  deep,  deep  hole. 

And  in  that  two  hours  every  detail  of  this  girl's 
life  was  gone  over  and  doled  out.  Her  first  arrival 
and  the  mystery  of  it,  her  coming  to  school  in  calico 
pinafore  and  barefoot,  her  growing  up  and  becom- 
ing bosom  friends  with  this  Lucinda  Lee  and  how 
it  was  looked  upon  by  Sandy  Bay  people,  what  a 
"  bastely  infiddle "  her  grandfather  was,  his  abuse 
of  her  in  countless  ways,  how  her  Aunt  Perth  was 
an  old  fool  for  not  fighting  for  her,  and  with  side 
lights  on  the  girl's  hard  life  and  her  mother's  his- 
tory also.  It  was  a  melange  both  poignant  and 
distressing  to  Mark.  Towards  its  close  and  as  they 
neared  the  flag-station  depot,  Barney  let  slip  one 
pertinent  remark  that  seemed  prophetic. 

"  Some  day  that  gal  will  run  away,  so  she  will, 
an'  go  to  the  bad  as  her  mother  did,"  he  said,  "  an' 
be  the  Powers  thar'll  be  none  to  blame  her." 


102  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

And  at  this  verdict  and  more  than  ever  before 
Mark  now  felt  that  his  life's  duty  lay  plain  before 
him.  But  he  was  glad  to  escape  Barney. 

It  was  a  day's  journey  to  Good  Will  Farm,  to- 
ward which  he  now  started  and  glad  was  he  to 
reach  that  haven, —  his  own  home  as  it  were  — 
and  the  cordial  hand  clasp  of  Mr.  Hinckley  and  his 
most  excellent  wife.  It  had  been  eighteen  months 
and  over  since  they  had  met,  for  Mark  had  been 
South  the  previous  fall  and  winter  on  business,  and 
now  there  was  much  to  exchange  of  mutual  interest. 
The  school  or  home,  its  need  of  more  cottages  and 
funds  to  build  them,  the  new  library  just  erected, 
how  the  crops  were  promising  and  many  other  minor 
matters  were  all  inquired  into  and  discussed;  Mark 
was  shown  that  library,  and  two  new  cottages  built 
since  his  last  visit,  and  then  came  supper,  and  a 
tete-a-tete  chat  between  the  two  men  on  the  cooling 
piazza. 

"  Well,  my  dear  boy,  what's  on  your  mind  ? " 
queried  Mr.  Hinckley  directly,  as  was  his  way, 
when  a  pause  came  in  the  conversation,  "  I  know 
something  is  by  your  manner  and  this  unusual  yet 
welcome  visit." 

"  Why  yes  there  is,"  laughed  Mark,  "  a  good 
deal.  The  fact  is  I  am  in  a  scrape,  and  beyond 
my  wish  for  a  visit  home  came  for  advice."  Then 


A    CELTIC    NEWS    AGENT  103 

without  any  hesitation  and  omitting  nothing  he  told 
of  his  visit  to  Folly  Island,  his  meeting  with  this 
girl,  the  impression  she  had  made  on  him,  her  sit- 
uation, education,  condition,  and  what  he  had 
promised  to  do  for  her.  It  was  quite  a  long  recital. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Hinckley  listened  to  it  attentively,  as 
he  ever  did  to  all  human  troubles,  and  at  its  close 
smiled  a  genial,  sunny  smile,  and  turned  to  Mark. 

"  Well,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  you  are  in 
just  the  scrape  I  have  been  hoping  you'd  get  into 
for  some  years,  and  my  advice  to  you  is,  go  back 
to  the  island  as  fast  as  you  can,  tell  this  old  brutal 
sea-dog  you  want  his  granddaughter  for  a  wife,  and 
bring  her  here.  Mrs.  Hinckley  will  dress  her  suit- 
ably, I'll  marry  you,  and  then  you  can  begin  her 
education  in  the  way  it  should  be;  the  way  God 
meant  it  should  be  also;  as  an  honored  wife  and 
maybe  mother." 

"  But  I'm  not  sure,  not  quite  sure  yet  that  I 
want  to  marry  her,"  returned  Mark  slowly,  yet 
grateful  for  the  advice  so  near  his  own  conclusion. 
"  I'll  admit  I  mean  to  say  '  will  you  ? '  to  her  some 
day,  I  guess  she  won't  say  no,  but  meantime  she 
needs  more  than  the  bare  ability  to  read  and  I  pre- 
sume write  which  constitutes  her  present  education. 
Also  a  little  more  polish  and  contact  with  refined 
people." 


104:  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

"  And  where,  how,  and  in  what  manner  can  she 
obtain  this  ?  "  interrupted  Mr.  Hinckley.  "  From 
your  description  she  can't  be  sent  to  any  boarding 
school  ? " 

"  No,  that  is  out  of  the  question.  The  fact  is  all 
this  has  come  upon  me  with  a  rush.  My  first 
thought  was  to  help  her  out  of  what  seemed  a  most 
pitiful  condition,  to  put  her  in  a  way  to  earn  a 
decent  livelihood  honestly,  and  into  some  sunshine 
for  I  saw  her  life  was  one  of  abject  drudgery,  and 
hatred  besides,  from  this  brute  grandfather.  It 
wasn't  until  last  night  that  it  dawned  on  me . — 
that  is,  until  I  felt  I  might  want  her  for  my  wife." 

"  And  now  you  do,"  again  interrupted  Mr.  Hinck- 
ley, "  well,  there  you  are  back  to  what  I  advised. 
And  now  to  follow  out  your  first  idea,  where  and 
how  would  you  place  her  to  earn  a  living?  And 
what  would  be  her  status,  a  handsome  young  lady 
ostensibly  under  your  protection,  in  any  respectable 
family?" 

"  True  enough,"  Mark  answered  promptly,  "  and 
that  is  out  of  the  question.  My  next  plan  was  to 
bring  her  here,  let  her  study  and  be  Christianized, 
if  you  please,  by  you,  and  then  — " 

"And  then?" 

"  And  then  if  she  is  willing  there  shall  be  a  wed- 
ding here  and  you  shall  tie  the  knot.' 


A    CELTIC    NEWS    AGENT  105 

"  I've  ample  means,"  Mark  continued,  proudly, 
"  she  need  never  know  but  that  she  was  earning 
her  own  way  here  for  I  doubt  she'd  be  happy  other- 
wise, and  I  could  pay  court  to  her  here  without 
scandal." 

"  All  very  nice,  sensible,  and  philanthropic  of 
you  to  an  extent,"  responded  Mr.  Hinckley,  after  a 
long  pause  while  he  gave  it  thought,  "  but  the  only 
way  I  should  feel  it  wise  to  accept  the  responsibility 
is  for  you  to  first  go  and  propose  marriage  to  her, 
have  no  concealments  but  bring  her  here  as  your  in- 
tended wife  and  we  will  do  the  rest. 

"  My  idea  from  the  way  you  talk  and  act,"  he 
added  laughing,  "  is  that  you  will  be  back  here  in  a 
month  and  want  her  to  get  ready  for  the  ceremony 
as  soon  as  possible.  I  see  you  are  in  love  with  her 
already." 

"  But  what  if  this  grandfather  says  '  no '  to  my 
bringing  her  here,  and  I'll  bet  he  would,  what 
then  ? " 

"  Is  she  of  marriageable  age,  over  eighteen  I 
mean,  and  legally  allowed  to  marry  without  her 
guardian's  consent  ? " 

"  That  I  can't  say,  and  I  doubt  if  she  knows 
her  own  age.  She  was  left  there  as  I  told  you  a 
foundling,  and  has  been  hated  ever  since.  No 
record  of  that  date  has  been  kept,  I  presume,  and 


106  MYKTLE  BALDWIN 

from  my  estimation  of  this  grandfather  he'd  lock 
her  up  and  stand  guard  with  a  cat-o'-nine  tails  be- 
fore he'd  let  her  come  away  with  me." 

"  Well,  its  a  curious  and  complex  situation,"  re- 
sponded Mr.  Hinckley  after  giving  it  further 
thought,  "  and  maybe  you'd  best  let  her  run  away 
and  meet  you  as  you  planned  and  then  bring  her 
here.  But  it  will  make  a  big  scandal  in  Sandy  Bay 
and  for  the  time  all  will  believe  she  has  gone  the 
way  her  mother  did  —  poor  woman !  It  is  to  avoid 
this  and  save  the  girl's  name  that  I  proposed  you 
go  there  and  act  above  board.  I  still  think  it  the 
best  way.  You  might,  if  you  feel  sure  this  grand- 
father wouldn't  consent,  go  to  Sandy  Bay,  obtain 
a  license,  send  a  message  to  her,  have  the  parson 
ready  and  marry  her  there  and  then.  Mrs.  H.  and 
myself  will  go  along  gladly  to  see  it  done,  then 
there  can't  be  any  scandal  and  you  will  feel  better 
for  it.  Also  have  a  wife  for  keeps  which  is  what 
I  honestly  believe  you  need.  This  philanthropic 
plan  of  yours  is  creditable  to  your  heart  but  not 
your  head,  for  its  a  risky  scheme  at  best  and  one 
you  may  regret.  We  will,  of  course,  do  all  we  can 
for  her  if  you  bring  her  here.  But  my  advice  is  to 
go  at  once  to  her  natural  protector,  brute  though  he 
may  be,  and  make  known  your  intentions." 


A    CELTIC    NEWS    AGENT  107 

Later  Mrs.  Hinckley  joined  them  on  the  piazza 
and,  as  all  wise  women  would  after  hearing  the  ro- 
mantic story,  agreed  that  her  husband's  advice  was 
best  to  follow.  And  that  night  in  his  room  ^Lark 
looked  out  upon  the  undulating  hillside  of  half-mile- 
square  expanse  comprising  Good  Will  Farm,  with 
its  dozen  modern  cottages,  its  Gothic  church  and 
granite  library  scattered  amid  green  meadows,  fields 
of  grain  and  growing  crops,  all  bathed  in  moonlight 
and  marveled  at  the  picture.  Also  that  among  the 
world  of  selfish  men  there  was  one  with  the  brains, 
the  nobility,  and  the  push,  to  bring  all  this  about 
and  furnish  such  a  home  to  maintain  and  educate 
homeless  waifs  and  orphans.  To  Mark,  once  such 
a  one,  and  who  had  found  home,  kindly  care,  edu- 
cation, and  wise  counsel  here;  the  Rev.  George  W. 
Hinckley  now  seemed  almost  deified,  or  at  least  a 
wondrous  man  among  men.  Then,  too,  his  advice 
in  this  unique  romance  also  seemed  beyond  question 
the  best  to  follow. 

But  after  Mark  had  bade  this  almost  parent  good- 
bye, the  next  morning,  fully  intending  to  return  to 
Folly  Island  the  next  day,  several  minor  obstacles 
arose  in  his  mind  to  checkmate  that  move.  First, 
he  knew  Frank  and  his  band  of  poker-playing  "  In- 
juns" were  there  and  might  remain  a  few  days 


108  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

longer.  To  go  a-wooing  and  meet  them  so  soon 
after  he  had  asserted  that  he  was  going  to  the  city 
on  important  business  was  to  say  the  least,  humili- 
ating. Then  the  almost  certainty  that  Cap'n  Jud 
would  receive  his  proposal  with  scorn  and  curses 
also  arose.  His  idea  of  that  brute's  nature  was  that 
he  would  keep  this  girl  a  practical  slave  rather  than 
let  her  accept  his  offer  of  marriage  and  lose  her 
services.  And  beneath  these  surface  obstacles  lay 
the  consciousness  that  in  spite  of  his  genuine  ardor 
such  a  step  was  to  say  the  least  —  hasty.  He  was 
in  love  most  certainly,  but  not  sufficiently  so  to  rush 
headlong  and  do  foolish  things.  In  the  end,  sober 
second  thought  won  over  Cupid  and  he  kept  on  to 
the  city  and  that  night  wrote  the  girl  her  first  love 
letter.  And  such  a  mixture  of  caution,  business 
sense,  and  tender  sentiment  was  it  it  shall  be  quoted 
in  full: 

"  MY  DEAR  MYRTLE  :  — "  he  wrote :  — 

"  I  have  become  so  impressed  with  your  many 
charms  of  person,  your  heroic  nature  and  winsome 
ways,  as  well  as  your  unfortunate  lot  in  life  that 
I  now  wish  you  for  my  wife  eventually,  and  to  take 
charge  of  you  as  soon  as  you  can  get  safely  away 
from  Folly  Island.  I  have  decided  upon  and  made 


A    CELTIC    NEWS    AGE3ST  109 

arrangements  for  you  to  go  to  Good  Will  Farm 
where  you  will  be  cared  for  by  most  excellent  and 
worthy  friends  of  mine,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hinckley. 
Here  you  will  be  treated  as  their  own  daughter 
would  be,  or  a  companion  and  not  a  menial.  You 
can  study  some,  have  access  to  an  excellent  library, 
and  attend  church.  You  will  be  provided  with 
suitable  clothing  and  as  my  affianced  wife,  will  re- 
ceive all  due  respect.  I  hope,  my  dear  girl,  you 
will  accept  my  proposal;  we  will  be  married  any 
time  within  a  year  that  suits  your  wishes,  and  while 
this  may  seem  business-like,  I  feel  and  believe  we 
start  with  love  enough  to  go  hand  in  hand  through 
life  together,  and  be  happy.  I  shall  try  my  best  to 
make  you  so,  anyway. 

"  Now  I  want  you  to  make  your  plans  to  meet 
me  one  week  from  to-day  at  B  — • — .  There  are 
but  two  trains  a  day  you  can  come  on,  one  leaving 
your  Sandy  Bay  station  about  ten  a.  m.,  the  other 
at  four.  Come  on  the  morning  one  if  possible  as 
that  will  give  us  time  to  reach  your  destination  the 
same  day.  I  shall,  however,  be  on  the  watch  for 
you  at  both  trains.  I  also  advise  you  get  away 
from  Folly  Island  without  having  anyone  find  out 
which  way  you  go.  It's  a  long  walk  but  by  start- 
ing before  midnight  you  can  easily  do  it  and  avoid 


110  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

the  road  as  much  as  possible.  Another  thing,  don't 
lose  your  money  for  that  is  your  sole  means  of  es- 
cape. 

"  And  now,  my  dear  Myrtle,  believe  me 
"  Your  loving  friend, 

"  MARK  MASON." 

But  the  one  weak  link  in  this  foolish  plan  failed 
when  the  test  came.  Cap'n  Jud  was  handed  the  let- 
ter ;  true  to  his  nature  he  opened  and  read  it ;  cursed 
Mark  for  his  interference  and  Myrtle  for  her  de- 
ception, tore  the  letter  in  ^shreds,  and  started  for 
Folly  Island,  fully  intending  to  flog  this  hated 
waif  until  the  blood  ran. 


CHAPTER  X 

DESOLATION   AND    DESPERATION 

WHEN  Mark  sailed  out  of  Folly  Cove  that  grey, 
overcast  morning,  it  seemed  to  the  watching  girl  as 
if  her  only  friend  was  deserting  her.  The  previous 
evening's  failure  to  meet  him,  the  insulting  attempt 
of  this  fellow,  Goodnow,  to  supplant  the  one  she  so 
much  wanted  to  meet  had  cost  her  most  of  the 
night's  sleep  and  now  at  early  dawn  to  see  this 
yacht  sail  away  'was  like  the  pronouncement  of 
doom.  All  her  hopes  now  hinged  on  the  promised 
letter;  if  that  failed  to  come  all  that  was  left  was 
to  go  away  and  face  the  world  and  her  fight  for  a 
livelihood  there,  alone.  All  the  consolation  and  as- 
surance left  her  to  recall  was  the  one  flutter  of  a 
handkerchief  seen  through  tears  on  the  yacht's  deck 
and  the  faith  that  Mark  would  keep  his  promise  and 
send  for  her.  And  on  that  missive  now  it  seemed 
that  her  very  life  depended! 

Her  morning  duties  came  along  as  usual  with 
never  a  smile  from  withered,  hopeless,  Aunt  Perth 
or  word  from  her  always  sullen  grandfather.  Then 

111 


112  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

to  the  wharf  once  more  with  its  vile  odors  and  filthy 
work. 

And  now  her  labor  was  more  monotonous  and 
disgusting  than  before.  Her  dress  soon  became 
brine-soaked,  her  back  and  arms  began  to  ache,  and 
worse  than  all  these  troubles,  her  heart  was  heavy 
as  well. 

The  last  evening's  failure  to  meet  Mark  aJso 
added  pain.  She  couldn't  understand  why  it  was 
or  how  it  happened.  She  had  seen  him  leave  the 
yacht,  land  across  the  cove  and  start  for  Sandy  Bay, 
then  as  soon  as  possible  she  had  gone  to  the  bridge 
to  await  him  as  agreed.  Two  hours  of  this  only 
resulted  in  disappointment  and  to  finally  be  ac- 
costed and  insulted  by  this  fellow,  Goodnow. 
Worse  than  that,  also  his  innuendoes  regarding  Mark 
and  how  he  was  probably  amusing  himself  with 
Cindy  rankled  in  her  mind.  She  had  never  known 
jealousy  before;  now  that  green  monster  tortured 
her  more  than  all  else  besides. 

And  to  crown  all  Mark  had  said  he  should  leave 
that  day ! 

And  then  after  three  hours  of  this  incessant  toil 
and  misery  of  mind  combined,  she  looked  up  from 
her  work  and  saw  Goodnow  approaching.  It  mat- 
tered not  to  her  however.  She  was  so  utterly  mis- 
erable that  to  be  seen  in  her  filthy  garb  by  this 


DESOLATION  AND  DESPERATION"        113 

white-duck-clad  city  yachtsman,  was  of  no  account 
except  to  add  anger. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Saucy  fisher-maid,"  he  ac- 
costed her,  and  raising  his  cap  as  he  drew  near. 
"  How  are  you  this  morning  ?  You  see  a  bad 
penny  always  returns  and  I  walked  clear  over  from 
Sandy  Bay  to  call  on  you." 

But  no  answer  came  from  Myrtle,  who  merely 
flashed  one  swift  disdainful  glance  at  him  and  kept 
on  spreading  fish,  while  ten  rods  away  and  unno- 
ticed by  him  sat  Cap'n  Jud  mending  a  net. 

"  Ain't  you  going  to  say  good  morning,  or  how-do 
to  me,"  Frank  continued  stepping  closer,  "  you 
might  as  well  be  sociable.  I  won't  bite  you.  " 

But  the  girl  answered  not  except  by  a  flush  of 
anger  that  flamed  in  her  face. 

For  one  moment  this  fellow  whom  nothing  could 
affront  stared  at  Myrtle  with  cool  audacity.  He 
noticed  and  noted  also  her  brine-soaked  dress  so 
clinging  that  it  disclosed  every  outline  of  her  per- 
fect form,  her  glossy  coils  of  hair  beneath  the  soft 
felt  hat  and  her  bare  feet  and  ankles.  The  night 
before  on  the  moonlit  bridge  he  had  thought  her 
handsome;  now  to  his  lustful  eyes  she  was  allur- 
ing. 

"  I  invited  you,  my  pretty  maid,  to  go  on  a  trip 
with  us  last  eve,"  he  added  suavely,  after  the  scru- 


114  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

tiny,  "  and  please  will  you  join  us,  Miss  Iceberg  ? 
You  see  I  want  you  so  much  I  am  willing  to  coax 
you?" 

Then  Myrtle  rose  in  her  wrath  and  faced  him. 

"  I  told  you  I  didn't  want  to  speak  to  you,"  she 
answered  with  a  snap,  "  and  I  wouldn't  go  with  you 
to  save  my  life.  I  hate  you !  " 

It  was  plain  talk  and  anyone  but  a  Frank  Good- 
now  would  have  accepted  his  discomfiture.  But  he 
didn't 

"  There,  there,  hold  your  horses,"  he  returned 
sweetly,  "  and  don't  take  my  head  off.  Your  friend 
Cindy  and  two  other  girls  are  going,  so  you  best 
go  and  have  the  time  of  your  life.  Come,  say  yes, 
and  I'll  give  you  two  dollars  for  every  kiss  I  get." 

For  answer  Myrtle  picked  up  her  empty  crate 
and  started  for  the  fish  house  again  and  Frank  fol- 
lowed. 

And  then  Cap'n  Jud  looked  up! 

"  Who  be  ye  an'  what  ye  want  here  ? "  he  bel- 
lowed. 

"I  —  I'm  the  owner  of  the  yacht  that  was  here," 
Frank  stammered,  "  and  come  to  invite  your  daugh- 
ter, I  suppose,  to  go  on  a  sail.  I  met  her  last  night 
you  see  and  some  of  the  Sandy  Bay  girls  are  going." 

"  Ye  did,  did  ye,  ye  damned  popinjay !  "  shouted 
Cap'n  Jud  now  rising.  "  An'  so  you're  the  whelp 


DESOLATION  AND  DESPERATION       115 

she's  out  nights  after,  be  ye?  Wai,  she  won't  go 
with  ye,  so  git  off  my  island  or  I'll  kick  ye  off,"  and 
he  started  towards  Frank. 

But  that  young  fellow,  ready  enough  to  insult  a 
helpless  girl,  now  waited  for  no  further  hint  but 
turned  and  fled. 

Then  Cap'n  Jud  wheeled  and  faced  Myrtle  just 
emerging  from  the  fish  house. 

"  So  that's  what  you're  doin'  nights  is  it !  "  he 
thundered,  his  face  purple  with  rage.  "  Out 
meetin'  that  young  squirt,  be  ye?  I'll  teach  ye 
decency,  I  will,"  and  grasping  her  arm  he  cuffed 
her  once,  twice,  thrice  with  ringing  blows.  Then 
he  shook  her  fiercely,  cuffed  her  once  more  for  good 
measure  and  resumed  his  net-mending  again. 

For  one  moment  the  girl  was  too  much  dazed  by 
the  sudden  blows  even  to  think,  then  she  caught  her 
breath  and  looked  at  him  moving  away,  her  eyes 
blazing  with  fury.  Only  an  instant  until  the 
degradation  and  injustice  of  it  all  crushed  her,  then 
she  sank  to  the  ground  sobbing. 

Not  once  for  the  next  two  hours  of  her  toil  did 
she  look  at  him  or  speak.  Neither  would  or  did 
she  go  to  the  house  for  dinner  but  kept  on  until  her 
work  was  finished,  and  then  she  sat  and  watched 
the  wide  ocean  and  booming  billows  until  her  tyrant 
taskmaster  came  and  pushed  his  dory  off  and  rowed 


116  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

away.  And  now  she  hurried  to  her  only  spot  for 
consolation,  her  stone  hut,  with  the  almost  hopeless 
hope  that  Mark  might  come  here  to  find  her. 

Her  life  had  been  desolate  enough  before;  now  it 
seemed  ten  times  more  so  and  unless  he  sent  for  her 
all  that  was  left  was  to  go  away  alone,  or  throw 
herself  into  the  merciless,  moaning  ocean. 

Two  hours  of  this  waiting,  watching,  hopeless 
mood,  with  now  and  then  tears,  and  again  moments 
of  useless  anger,  and  then  Mark's  promises  began  to 
leaven  her  spirits.  That  he  was  to  find  her  a  place 
to  go  to,  to  write  to  her,  to  save  her  from  this 
wretched  and  degrading  life,  she  still  believed  and 
trusted.  Then  the  means  he  had  given  her  for  es- 
cape occurred  to  her!  She  hastened  to  the  niche 
where  it  was  hid,  took  the  roll  of  money  out  once 
more  and  counted  it,  kissed  the  bills  one  by  one  — 
his  money  loaned  her  for  protection,  for  a  new  life 
in  another  world! 

When  sunset  came  she  started  for  the  house  — 
home  it  would  never  seem  again  —  and  buoyed  by 
this  new  hope,  she  no  longer  feared  this  brutal 
grandfather.  He  might  curse  her,  revile  her,  beat 
her,  it  mattered  not.  Only  for  a  few  days  longer 
was  this  to  last,  then  a  message  of  salvation  or  to  go 
anyway.  And  now  plans  of  how  she  was  to  find 
excuses  to  go  to  Sandy  Bay  and  ask  for  letters  be- 


DESOLATION  AND  DESPERATION"       117 

gan  to  form  in  her  mind?  Only  afternoons  while 
he  was  away  trawl-setting  or  net-hauling  was  this 
possible,  but  go  then  she  must  and  would. 

The  next  day  brought  another  hour  of  gloom  for, 
busy  at  her  work  in  sullen  silence  she  saw  the  yacht 
sail  out  past  the  island  and  on  its  canopied  after 
deck  three  girls  in  white  attire.  She  knew  who 
they  were,  one  was  her  friend  Cindy,  the  others, 
girls  who  worked  with  her  in  the  canning  shop  in 
Sandy  Bay  and  rated  as  kin  to  her  in  name  and 
fame.  And  now  they  were  being  admired  and  flat- 
tered while  she  was  alone  and  hated.  She  could 
hear  voices  also  and  laughter  from  the  yacht,  then 
singing  and  sounds  of  banjo-playing.  Presently 
that  all  faded  away  and  the  yacht  grew  smaller  and 
finally  a  mere  white  speck  far  out  on  the  wide 
ocean.  She  saw  it  return  at  twilight  then  the  next 
day  sail  away  to  be  seen  no  more. 

On  the  third  afternoon  —  for  not  sooner  could 
she  hope  to "  receive  a  letter  —  she  stole  away  to 
Sandy  Bay  and  timidly  asked  for  one. 

"  Nothin'  for  ye,"  answered  Amos  Orton,  eyeing 
her  keenly,  "  who  be  ye  s'pectin'  one  from,  one  o' 
them  yachtin'  fellers  ?  " 

"  Nb-o,"  answered  Myrtle,  blushing  rose  red,  "  I 
• — I  don't  know  them." 


118  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

It  was  the  first  step  into  her  new  life  and  need 
of  evasion  and  it  scared  her. 

Another  shock,  this  time  a  shameful  one,  came  a 
few  moments  later  for  leaving  the  village  she  met 
Cindy. 

.  "  Oh,  Mert,"  she  exclaimed,  "  where  have  you 
been  for  so  long  and  why  haven't  you  heen  over  to 
see  me  ?  Tell  me,  too,  why  you  was  so  mean  to 
Frank  and  wouldn't  go  with  us  on  the  yacht?  I 
sent  him  over  after  you,  you  wouldn't  speak  to  him 
hardly  he  said,  and  he  got  insulted,  too,  by  that 
brute  grandad  of  yours ;  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  You  knew  well  enough  I  couldn't  go  on  the 
yacht  for  I  hain't  got  clothes  fit  and  Grandfather 
wouldn't  let  me  anyway,"  Myrtle  answered,  "  and  I 
didn't  like  this  Frank,  either,  he's  too  —  too 
cheeky." 

"  Oh,  you  silly  chump,"  laughed  Cindy,  "  what's 
that  to  do  with  it,  and  he's  handsome  enough  to 
catch  any  girl  and  rich  too  ?  You  missed  a  good 
time  besides,  for  we  had  great  fun  —  singing,  danc- 
ing, nice  things  to  eat  and  wine,  champagne,  think 
of  it,  and  that  costs  three  or  four  dollars  a  bottle !  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  returned  Myrtle  slowly,"  "  I'd 
been  ashamed  of  my  clothes  and  I  don't  like  such  a 
fellow  as  this  Frank  either.  I  s'pose  he  kissed 


DESOLATION    AND    DESPERATION  119 

you,"  she  added,  eyeing  Cindy,  "  and  all  the  other 
fellows  too,  didn't  they?" 

"  Of  course,"  responded  Cindy,  without  a  shade 
of  humiliation,  "  they  was  doing  that  every  five 
minutes  and  it  was  great  larks.  We  each  of  us  got 
five  dollars,  too,  one  from  each  of  the  boys  before 
we  came  ashore  to  make  up  for  our  day's  wages  they 
said." 

"  I  don't  want  money  earned  that  way,"  replied 
Myrtle  scornfully,  "  I  wouldn't  let  a  lot  of  fellows 
kiss  me  in  public  if  I  starved." 

"  No,  I  s'pose  not,  and  the  more  fool  you,"  as- 
serted the  shameless  Cindy,  "  you'd  stay  on  Folly 
Island,  go  barefoot  and  be  a  slave  before  you'd  pick 
up  a  dollar  that  way,  but  I  wouldn't.  What  thanks 
do  you  get  for  being  good  in  this  world,  I'd  like  to 
know,"  she  continued  warmly,  "  or  who  will  buy 
you  new  shoes  or  a  jacket  when  winter  comes  ?  No 
one,  and  you  know  it.  Here  I  am  and  sister  Molly 
working  in  the  can  shop  all  the  time  and  dad  drink- 
in'  up  every  dollar  he  earns  and  we  keepin'  house 
for  him.  Who  cares  for  us  or  whether  we  are  good 
or  not  ?  I'm  sick  of  it  all,"  she  added  more  ve- 
hemently, "  and  the  can  shop  too,  and  smell  of  fish 
oil,  phew !  And  I'm  going  away  too !  " 

"  You  are ! "  returned  Myrtle  in  surprise. 
"  When  and  where  are  you  going  ?  " 


120  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

"  Oh,  that's  a  secret  I  didn't  mean  to  let  out,  and 
you  mustn't  tell.  I'll  tell  you,  Mert,"  she  added 
after  waiting  a  moment  to  be  urged,  "  if  you  will 
promise,  hope  to  die  you  won't  tell  ?  Will  you  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  Myrtle  in  more  surprise. 
"  I've  no  reason  to  give  your  secrets  away,  Cindy." 

"Well,  then,"  continued  Cindy  in  a  lower  tone, 
"  I'm  going  to  the  city  and  Frank  is  going  to  find 
a  nice  place  for  me,  model  in  a  cloak  store,  he  said, 
or  something  of  that  sort,  and  a  three-room  flat  to 
live  in.  We  talked  it  all  over  that  day  on  the  yacht 
and  he  gave  me  money  to  go  with." 

"  And  you  are  really  going  ? "  queried  Myrtle, 
recalling  her  friend  Mark,  the  money  hid  on  Folly 
Island,  and  feeling  herself  blush.  "  I  shall  be  so 
sorry  for  I  shall  miss  you." 

"  Oh  you  needn't  be  sorry,"  answered  Cindy 
gayly,  "  for  I'll  be  better  off." 

"  But  what  about  your  sister  Molly  ?  Have  you 
told  her?" 

"  Not  I,  and  I  don't  mean  to,"  she  replied  heart- 
lessly. "  I'm  just  going  and  say  nothing  to  no- 
body. I  only  let  on  to  you  before  I  thought. 
Say,"  she  added  again  lowering  her  voice,  "  I'm 
going  to  tell  you  something  else  I've  guessed,  or 
Frank  has.  He  says  you've  been  meeting  a  friend 
of  his,  the  one  who  went  away,  have  you  ? " 


DESOLATION    AND    DESPERATION  121 

Myrtle  had  not  been  much  surprised  at  her 
schoolmate's  disclosures.  She  knew  what  gossips 
had  said  of  her  and  her  own  callous  indifference  to 
it.  She  also  knew  Cindy's  ideas  of  men  and  their 
attentions.  This  new  plan  while  a  practical  con- 
fession of  the  truth  of  all  evil  report  was  not  sur- 
prising, either.  But  this  query  was,  and  she 
blushed  crimson. 

"  Oh,  I  see  it's  true,"  laughed  Cindy  gleefully, 
"  and  I'm  so  glad.  Now,  Mert,  you  old  splendid, 
we  are  both  in  luck  and  can  go  together  just  as  well 
as  not.  You  don't  care  a  rap  for  your  home.  You 
are  starved  there  and  made  a  slave  and  Frank  said 
he  could  fix  matters  for  you,  too,  and  we  can  room 
together  and  be  company.  In  fact,  he  made  me 
promise  to  go  and  coax  you  to  come  also.  Of 
course  your  friend  will  be  notified  and  won't  he  be 
surprised  ?  It's  just  elegant !  "  And  Cindy's  eyes 
sparkled  for  she  really  cared  a  good  deal  for  this 
schoolmate  friend  and  waif. 

As  for  Myrtle,  guilty  in  a  way,  yet  innocent  of 
any  guile,  she  felt  hot  and  cold  by  turns,  then  as 
if  all  the  world  knew  her  secret.  And  that  it  was 
a  shameful  one  as  well.  For  one  moment  she 
gasped  for  breath,  then  recovered. 

"  Your  friend  Frank  has  been  lying  to  you,"  she 
answered  with  forced  calmness,  "  and  don't  know 


122  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

anything  about  me.  I  went  out  for  a  walk  the 
other  night,  he  met  me  on  the  bridge,  tried  to  make 
free  with  me,  and  then  I  ran  away.  Everything 
else  he  says  is  a  lie." 

"  But  wasn't  you  there  to  meet  this  Mr.  Mason," 
persisted  Cindy,  "  Frank  said  you  was  and  he  knew 
it  he  said." 

To  evade  was  hard  for  Myrtle,  to  lie  directly 
even  more  so,  but  now  she  was  cornered. 

"  No,"  she  answered  firmly,  "  I  wasn't  there  to 
meet  anybody  and  your  friend  is  a  liar." 

"Well,  don't  get  mad  about  it,"  pleaded  Cindy, 
"  and  don't  tell  nobody  about  my  plan.  I'm  sorry 
you  won't  go  too,"  she  added  tenderly,  "  we  have 
been  friends  so  long,  there  is  no  one  in  the  world 
I  love  half  so  well  as  you  and  say,  dear,  let  us  stick 
together  now !  You  know  what  folks  think  of  —  of 
you  here  and  always  will  ?  I've  stood  up  for  you 
ever  since  you  was  a  kid  and  your  folks  only  hate 
you  and  will  be  glad  if  you  go.  Come  now,  say  you 
will,  quit  your  slave  life  and  be  somebody  instead 
of  a  dirty  drudge  for  that  hog  Cap'n  Jud !  " 

It  was  a  sore  temptation,  and  few  girls  so  hope- 
less, so  hated  and  with  the  shameful  ban  of  birth 
over  them  would  have  resisted.  But  Myrtle  did. 
Yet  all  that  saved  her  from  thus  wrecking  herself 


DESOLATION  AND  DESPERATION        123 

was  Mark's  promise  to  aid  her  and  the  faith  that  he 
would ! 

"  No,  no,  Cindy,"  she  said  firmly,  "  I  can't  go 
with  you  and  become  —  do  what  I  know  you  will. 
I  shall  miss  you  so  much,  I've  nobody  to  care  for 
me  now,  but  —  I  can't  do  it.  I'd  rather  die  first." 

"  Well,  then,  its  good-bye  for  good  I  s'pose," 
Cindy  asserted  biting  her  lips,  "  for  I've  promised 
and  I  am  going  to-morrow." 

Then  the  eyes  of  the  two  —  friends  still  in  spite 
of  all  —  met  for  one  last  long,  appealing  look. 
Only  for  an  instant,  then  a  rush  of  clasping  arms, 
lips  meeting  once,  twice,  thrice,  and  thus  they 
parted. 

And  Myrtle  slowly  returning  to  Folly  Island 
knew  that  her  future  held  but  one  hope  and  one 
friend  now,  and  reaching  the  bridge  —  a  spot  hal- 
lowed beyond  all  others  —  she  sank  down  upon  it 
and  sobbed  in  abject  misery. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ETNA!,    DESPERATION 

ONLY  once  more  did  Myrtle  dare  go  to  Sandy 
Bay  and  ask  for  a  letter  and  then  failing  to  re- 
ceive it  she  began  to  lose  hope.  One  was  there 
awaiting  her,  however,  but  owing  to  dim  light  and 
failing  eyes  Postmaster  Orton  had  put  it  in  the 
"  O "  instead  of  "  B "  box  and  the  second  weak 
link  in  Mark's  chain  failed  to  hold. 

"  Thar's  suthin'  curis  goin'  on,"  he  muttered  to 
himself  after  Myrtle  left  the  store  and  hurried  back 
to  Folly  Island.  "Fust  that  gal  o'  Cap'n  Jud's 
comes  askin'  fer  a  letter  three  times  goin' — never 
had  one  in  her  life  afore  ez  I've  noticed — 'n'  yes- 
terday Cindy  Lee  lit  out  tellin'  Barney  she  was 
goin'  to  Kingdom  Come  which  was  ez  much  ez  say- 
in'  none  o'  your  business.  'N'  she  flashed  a  roll  o' 
money  too,  Barney  said,  in  payin'  him.  My  'pin- 
ion is  them  yachtin'  fellers  takin'  the  gals  out  sailin' 
has  raised  the  devil  all  round." 

Later  developments  were  more  convincing. 

Myrtle,  however,  was  unconscious  of  all  this  sur- 
124 


FINAL    DESPERATION  125 

raise;  she  had  not  even  stopped  to  ask  for  Cindy, 
and  once  back  at  the  island  went  about  work  more 
hopeless  and  sullen  than  ever.  She  had  now  waited 
five  days,  two  more  passed  in  the  same  monotonous 
manner  with  only  brief  intervals  when  she  visited 
her  playhouse  to  shed  tears  and  watch  the  solemn 
ocean,  and  then  the  climax  came,  for  that  day  Cap'n 
Jud  had  visited  Sandy  Bay  late  in  the  afternoon, 
was  given  the  letter  addressed  to  Myrtle,  and  with 
his  domineering  arrogance  and  total  disregard  of 
her  right  had  opened  and  read  it.  To  add  to  its 
sinister  effect  on  his  temper  he  had  also  been  told 
of  Cindy's  departure  and  whom  she  probably  went 
to  meet.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  when  he  once 
more  reached  his  home  he  was  almost  in  a  mood  for 
murder. 

Supper  was  ready  and  Aunt  Perth  and  Myrtle 
both  awaiting  him  when  he  came  in.  He  neither 
looked  at  or  spoke  to  them,  but  strode  through  the 
sitting  room  as  if  crossing  his  own  ship's  quarter 
deck,  entered  his  room  opening  from  the  sitting 
(and  living)  room,  and  came  back  the  next  moment 
with  a  heavy  black-snake  whip  in  his  hand. 

"  Come,  strip  ye  young  'Jezebel,  ye  shameless 
hussy !  "  he  bellowed,  glaring  at  poor  Myrtle  while 
his  face  grew  purple  with  rage  and  like  a  demon's. 

"  Come,  off  with  yer  clothes,"  he  shouted  again, 


126  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

striding  toward  her,  "  I'll  teach  ye  to  plan  a  run- 
away 'n'  go  to  hell  after  yer  mother!  Come,  peel 
now !  "  And  he  grabbed  her  by  the  arm  and  shook 
her. 

And  then  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  his  sister 
dared  to  assert  her  womanhood  and  grasped  his  arm. 

"  Let  that  girl  alone,  Judson  Baldwin !  "  she  too 
almost  shouted  pushing  him  back.  "  She  shan't 
strip  and  you  shan't  whip  her  so  or  I'll  leave  this 
house  to-night  and  she,  too,  'n'  never  set  foot  in  it 
again!  Ain't  you  ashamed,  you  brute,"  she  added 
in  tone  like  a  funeral  knell,  "  and  she  a  grown-up 
girl !  Shame  on  you,  Judson,  shame  on  you,  I  say, 
and  let  her  be  or  you'll  live  and  die  here  alone !  " 

And  for  once  in  all  his  selfish,  domineering  life, 
that  surly  demon  misnamed  man  —  whose  wife  had 
died  from  harsh  treatment  and  neglect,  whose 
daughter  had  been  driven  from  home  by  it, —  was 
cowed  by  the  blazing  wrath  of  his  aged  sister  and 
stepped  back. 

"  She  meant  to  run  away  like  her  mother  and  for 
the  same  end  she  did.  And  ye  was  given  money 
for  it  too,  I  s'pose,"  he  growled,  again  glaring  at 
the  girl.  "  Where  is  it,  I  want  to  know  ?  It's 
some'ers  I  reckon,  but  you'll  fetch  it  to  me  to- 
morrer  'fore  ye  git  a  morsel  to  eat  or  I'll  larrup  ye. 
Now  go  to  bed  'n'  stay  hungry  till  ye  fetch  me  that 


Let  that  girl  alone,  Judson  Baldwin!"  —  Page  126. 


FINAL    DESPERATION"  127 

money."  And  glad  so  to  escape  him  the  girl  slunk 
away  to  her  room. 

And  here,  looking  out  upon  the  starlit  sky  and 
dark  hopeless  ocean,  she  knew  that  the  end  had 
come,  that  she  had  been  sent  for  but  would  never 
read  the  message  and  that  come  weal  or  woe  she 
must  leave  the  island  that  night!  One  hour,  two 
hours,  she  sat  waiting,  listening,  almost  despairing, 
until  all  sounds  had  ceased  below  and  then  she  pre- 
pared for  flight.  Carefully  removing  her  old  soiled 
work  dress  she  drew  on  her  only  best  one,  a  blue 
flannel,  her  one  good  pair  of  stockings  and  with 
shoes  in  hand  and  man's  hat  on  —  her  sole  head 
coverfng  —  and  taking  her  old  dress  for  a  purpose 
she  crept  softly  down  the  stairs.  Once  out  in  the 
free  air  she  ran  down  the  winding,  scarce  visible 
path  to  the  point.  Half-way  there  she  halted,  drew 
on  her  shoes  and  kept  on  to  her  stone  hut.  The 
precious  money  was  next  secured  and  thrust  in  her 
bosom,  then  to  her  garden  to  bid  that  one  little  spot 
of  happy  diversion  good-bye,  and  then  back  to  her 
hut  she  ran. 

That  was  the  hardest  to  part  from  of  any  on  the 
island.  It  had  cost  her  hundreds  of  hours  of  toil 
and  heavy  lifting,  each  and  every  one  of  its  stones 
had  been  hunted  for  on  the  beach  and  carried  thither 
to  use,  and  in  a  way  this  playhouse  had  become  and 


128  MYRTLE    BALDWIN" 

was  her  own  little  home.  It  had  seemed  to  cheer 
her  in  lonely  hours  and  its  always  open  door  to  bid 
her  welcome.  Here  she  had  dreamed  dreams. 
Here  she  had  fancied  she  was  someone  else,  and  not 
a  motherless  waif  denied  and  despised.  Here  she 
had  read  her  books  and  here  lived  over  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  the  wonderful  people  in  them,  wept  for 
Uncle  Tom  and  Little  Eva,  clenched  her  fist  and 
hoped  Legree  would  be  killed,  pitied  Robinson  Cru- 
soe, and  almost  gasped  for  breath  while  she  followed 
Gilliat  in  his  famous  fight  with  the  devil-fish. 
Here  she  had  shed  bitter  tears  for  Bebee  and  Folly 
Farine  of  Ouida's  conception,  felt  Tricotrin  and 
Strathmore  were  the  noblest  men  created,  and  Lady 
Vavasour  the  vilest  woman.  And  worse  for  her  in 
one  way;  here  she  had  first  learned  how  despised  a 
child  born  out  of  wedlock  was,  and  why  she  was  so 
hated  by  her  grandfather.  But  go  and  leave  this 
dearly  loved  spot  of  many  memories  she  must  and 
now ;  looking  at  it  with  moist  eyes  and  then  up  at  the 
vast  starlit  sky  and  out  over  the  darkened  ocean; 
somehow  at  this  moment,  she  began  to  wonder  who 
God  was  and  if  He  was  watching  her!  She  had 
been  told  there  was  such  a  Being  in  the  books  she 
enjoyed  reading  best,  in  the  dull  ones  His  existence 
was  denied,  which  seemed  proof  of  their  falsity. 
This  diversity  of  belief  had  also  been  duly  consid- 


FINAL   DESPERATION"  129 

ered  by  her,  her  better  sense  always  saying  that  there 
must  have  been  some  Power  who  created  all  things, 
and  now  in  this  moment  of  desperation  He  might 
help  her.  One  moment  only  she  wavered,  the  next 
she  was  on  her  knees  beside  the  hut  with  her  face 
against  its  cold  and  unresponsive  stones. 

"  O  God,"  she  said,  "  if  there  is  a  God  and  you 
can  help  me,  please  I  beg  of  you  do  it  now!  I  am 
alone  and  afraid.  I  have  no  one  to  help  me  and 
may  be  you  can.  Tell  me  first  if  I  can  find  the 
man  who  promised  to  help  me  and  where.  Tell 
me  if  I  shall  find  some  home  where  I  can  work  and 
earn  my  keep,  and  I  will.  Keep  all  bad  men  away 
from  me  and  not  let  me  be  robbed.  Please  God 
help  me  to-night  and  give  me  courage  to  go  on. 
Please  help  me,  dear  God,  somehow  just  a  little." 

Then  she  stood  up  and  looked  around. 

Only  the  bare  rocks  faced  her  on  one  side,  the 
moaning  ocean  on  the  other,  the  sky  above,  beside 
her  the  hut.  But  somehow  she  felt  stronger.  One 
more  long  lingering  look  at  that  crude  structure, 
then  she  knelt  again,  kissed  one  stone  then  another 
and  yet  another. 

"  Good-bye,  little  house,  good-bye,"  she  whia- 
pered,  "  and  maybe  he  may  come  here  sometime  to 
find  me."  Then  she  rose  to  her  feet,  turned  and  fled 
up  the  island.  Near  her  home  she  left  the  path, 


130  MYBTLE    BALDWIN" 

made  a  detour  back  of  it,  and  ran  to  the  bridge. 
Here  again  and  out  of  breath  she  paused  to  lean 
her  face  against  the  rail  where  Mark  had  stood, 
dropped  her  old  dress  and  then  on  again.  When 
Sandy  Bay  and  its  spectral  houses  came  in  sight 
she  halted  once  more,  for  now  possible  discovery 
faced  her.  That  must  never  be,  and  now  she  turned 
from  the  road  and  skulking  along  beside  fences, 
stooping  as  she  crossed  open  fields,  she  finally  made 
this  wide  detour,  regained  the  road  beyond  the  vil- 
lage, and  then  ran  until  so  breathless  that  she  had 
to  sit  down.  And  now  for  the  first  time  a  strange 
faintness  came  over  her  and  little  rills  of  perspira- 
tion were  traversing  her  face.  What  time  it  was 
she  knew  not,  or  how  far  she  had  come.  Ten  miles 
she  had  been  told  separated  Sandy  Bay  from  the  rail- 
road and  trains,  but  all  she  knew  of  what  a  railroad 
was  had  been  obtained  from  pictures  and  description, 
she  had  never  seen  one.  Five,  ten  minutes,  she 
panted  until  breath  came  better,  then  suddenly 
thought  of  her  money  with  a  start,  felt  in  her  bosom 
for  the  roll,  found  it  there  all  safe,  with  a  great  throb 
of  her  heart  as  she  did  so,  and  tucked  it  further  in 
and  started  on.  One  house  came  in  sight  bringing  a 
sense  of  fear,  was  passed  safely,  then  another  also 
dreaded  until  well  to  the  rear,  and  then  a  long  hill. 
Up  this  she  toiled  to  find  her  legs  trembling  at  its 


FINAL    DESPERATION  131 

top  and  she  faint  and  dizzy  for  not  a  morsel  of 
food  had  passed  her  lips  since  morn  the  day  before. 
She  went  slower  now  as  perforce  she  had  to;  barely 
crawling  up  the  hills  then  running  down  the  declines 
and  so  on  and  on,  until  she  tottered. 

And  then  suddenly  she  came  to  two  narrow  iron 
rails  and  beside  them  and  near  the  road  an  open 
shed.  Looking  around  and  back  of  her  she  saw  the 
first  faint  signs  of  dawn.  With  that  also  came  her 
fears  once  more.  Some  one  from  Sandy  Bay  might 
come  here  and  know  her  and  that  would  never  do. 
Barney  she  knew  would  not  come  until  afternoon 
but  others  might.  Then  Mark's  orders  to  follow  the 
track  until  some  other  station  was  reached  and  wait 
there  now  recurred  to  her  and  she  started  westward 
toward  it. 

The  morning  light  also  increased,  the  birds  began 
to  sing,  the  sun  arose,  yet  all  this  marvel  of  a  new- 
born day  was  unseen  by  her.  She  saw  only  the  two 
glistening  rails  she  followed  and  ties  over  which  she 
stumbled.  There  was  mile  after  mile  of  this 
wearisome  flight  while  dust  coated  her  dress  and 
face,  adown  which  the  sweat  trickled.  Her  feet  be- 
gan to  blister,  her  head  to  swim,  and  the  track  to 
wave  up  and  down  and  to  right  and  left  ahead  of 
her.  Once,  twice,  thrice  she  fell  headlong  from 
faintness  and  utter  exhaustion,  each  time  to  rise  and 


132  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

plod  on.  But  the  end  of  her  young  vigor  was  near- 
ing;  stop  she  must  or  drop  dead,  and  coming  to  a 
fringe  of  low  scrub  spruce  beside  the  track  she  dove 
into  their  cool  shelter  and  sank  to  earth  unconscious. 

How  long  this  lasted  she  never  knew,  only  some- 
time that  hot  sultry  July  morn  an  oncoming  roar, 
a  quiver  of  earth  beneath  her,  and  the  deafening 
din  of  a  passing  train  brought  consciousness,  she 
sat  up,  and  just  at  that  moment  a  dog  bounded  up 
to  her,  began  barking  and  as  she  arose  a  man  with 
a  grey  chin-whisker  and  garbed  in  long  brown  over- 
alls, shirt,  and  broad  straw  hat,  peeped  into  the 
thicket  at  her. 

"  Here,  Peter,  come  back !  "  he  shouted  to  the  dog. 
"  Don't  be  skeerin'  the  gal.  Hullo,  Miss,"  he  ad- 
ded in  surprised  tone,  "  who  might  you  be,  and  was 
ye  takin'  a  nap  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so,  sir,"  Myrtle  answered  quick  to  see 
he  had  a  kindly  face  and  grateful  for  it  "I  — 
I've  come  a~iong  way  and  was  awful  tired." 

"  Wai,  ye  look  it,"  he  responded  smiling,  "  'n' 
purty  dirty  too." 

And  that  blunt  honest  speech  won  the  poor  scared 
girl's  confidence  in  an  instant. 

"But  how  came  ye  here,"  he  continued,  "was 
ye  follerin'  the  ties?  'Scuse  me  miss  for  askin' 
'tain't  none  o'  my  business  but  a  young  gal  like  you 


FINAL    DESPEBATION  133 

nappin'   in  the  bushes  kinder  took  me  onawares." 

Then  the  two  looked  at  one  another  while  the 
dog  drew  near,  sniffed  at  the  girl's  dress  and  satisfied 
that  she  was  no  enemy  sat  down  on  his  haunches 
and  also  watched  her. 

"  I  guess  I  can  trust  you,  sir,"  Myrtle  now  as- 
serted with  one  of  her  appealing  glances  and  a  smile 
that  also  won  this  farmer's  heart.  "  I've  run  away 
from  someone  who  hated  me,  I  was  going  to  the 
next  station  to  take  a  train  and  go  ever  so  far  away 
and  please  promise  me  you  won't  tell  nobody  you 
saw  me." 

"  Why,  sartin,  sartin,  'tain't  my  business,"  the 
man  ejaculated,  "  an'  I'm  sorry  fer  ye.  How  far 
hev  ye  come  ?  Beg  pardon  agin,  ye  needn't  answer, 
hev  ye  had  anything  to  eat  to-day  ?  " 

And  for  those  kindly  words,  the  first  she  had  heard 
since  Mark  left  her,  that  girl's  heart  gave  a  throb 
of  gratitude. 

"  I  am  'most  starved,"  she  explained,  "  I  hain't 
had  a  morsel  since  yesterday  morning,  and  please,  sir, 
if  you'll  give  me  something  to  eat  I  can  pay  for  it." 

"  Wai,  you  jist  come  with  me  right  quick,  an'  thar 
won't  be  no  payin'  either.  I'll  find  ye  some  vittles 
at  the  house,"  and  taking  her  arm  gently  he  led 
her  out  of  the  thicket  to  a  path. 

And  so  grateful  was  the  poor  runaway  girl  for 


134:  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

this  unexpected  aid  she  could  have  kissed  the  hand 
that  clasped  her  arm.  And  also,  be  it  said,  she 
never  afterwards  met  a  man  with  chin- whiskers  with- 
out instinctively  feeling  she  could  trust  him. 

To  a  secluded  farm-house  with  capacious  barns 
beside  a  seldom  traveled  road  she  was  now  escorted, 
a  motherly  old  lady  resembling  a  belted  meal  sack 
met  them  with  open-eyed  astonishment,  who  ad- 
dressed the  farmer  as  "  Father  "  and  received  his 
story  of  how  he  found  the  girl  with  "  Mercy  me," 
"  Land  sakes,"  and  "  You  poor  critter,"  all  of  which 
sounded  sweet  to  the  hungry  and  very  weary  girl. 
An  invitation  to  wash  at  the  kitchen  sink  came  next, 
cold  meat,  bread  and  butter,  milk  and  pie,  were 
brought  forth  in  ample  supply,  and  poor  Myrtle 
was  made  to  feel  that  the  world  she  fe'ared  held  at 
least  two  people  with  kindly  hearts.  Something  of 
her  story  was  also  now  related  by  her.  How  she  had 
been  brought  up  by  a  grandfather  who  hated  and 
abused  her  as  well,  her  many  privations,  the  hard 
and  filthy  work  allotted  her,  the  many  blows  and  fre- 
quent curses  added  to  that,  and  how  her  sole  enjoy- 
ment for  years  had  been  found  in  stolen  hours,  the 
building  of  a  playhouse,  a  tiny  flower  garden,  and 
a  few  books.  Not  a  word  about  Mark  or  his 
promises,  where  she  came  from,  the  names  of  any 
one  or  her  right  name.  And  to  the  credit  of  this 


FINAL    DESPERATION  135 

old  farmer,  Anson  Cony,  and  his  rotund  wife,  neither 
questioned  her  regarding  these  details.  Like  Good 
Samaritans  they  merely  took  her  in,  fed,  cared  for 
and  petted  her  without  exacting  more  than  she  cared 
to  tell. 

"  Ye  need  sleep  now,  poor  gal,  most  o'  anything," 
the  farmer  said  after  Myrtle  had  told  so  much  of 
her  story,  "'n'  mother'll  fix  ye  up  now  on  the  settle 
for  a  good  nap.  Bimeby  I'll  hitch  up  'n'  take  ye 
to  the  train.  If  'tain't  axin  more'n  ye  want  to  tell, 
whar  was  ye  figgerin'  on  goin'  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  she  returned  hesitating, 
"  only  I  want  to  go  a  long  way  off  and  find  work." 

"  Wai,  we'll  talk  o'  that  later,"  he  answered  sooth- 
ingly, "  now  get  some  sleep." 

And  "  fixed  up  "  she  soon  was  on  the  huge  chintz 
covered  settle  with  its  soft  pillows,  and  left  to  for- 
get her  sorrows  and  troubles,  lulled  to  blessed  slum- 
ber by  the  drowzy  hum  of  bees,  the  cool  breeze  bring- 
ing the  scent  of  new-mown  hay  into  the  open  win- 
dows, and  a  soothing  sense  of  security.  So  wearied 
was  she  also  by  that  all-night  tramp  and  tax  on  her 
nerves,  she  slept  on  and  on  until  past  train-time 
and  almost  sunset. 

But  Fate  was  conspiring  against  her  even  in  this, 
for  that  very  day  was  the  one  Mark  had  written 
her  to  meet  him  at  B. — ,  he  was  there  awaiting  her 


136  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

anxiously  and  had  she  taken  that  afternoon  train, 
there  was  a  chance  that  the  two  might  have  met. 
But  she  came  not  and  he  began  to  surmise  all  sorts 
of  mishaps  and  upsets  to  their  plan  of  meeting ;  then 
to  curse  himself  for  not  following  Mr.  Hinckley's 
advice  at  first,  and  after  waiting  another  day,  started 
for  Folly  Island. 
But  it  was  too  late. 


CHAPTER  XII 

INTO   THE   GREAT   WORLD 

the  runaway  girl  awoke  after  that  long 
afternoon  sleep  the  old  farmer  was  just  bringing  in 
two  brimming  pails  of  milk  and  she,  much  refreshed, 
now  glanced  at  the  tall  clock,  hesitated  a  moment, 
scarce  realizing  where  she  was,  then  sprang  up  and 
entered  the  kitchen. 

"  Wai,  girlie,"  he  exclaimed  cheerfully,  "  how 
be  ye,  'n'  did  ye  sleep  good?  I  told  mother  not  to 
wake  ye  fer  thar's  'nother  day  comin'.  Trains'll 
run  jest  the  same,  'n'  'nother  night  here  won't  harm 

ye." 

The  fact  was  that  this  kindly  farmer  and  his  wife 
living  alone  here  and  discussing  this  girl  and  her 
story  while  she  slept,  had  formulated  the  excellent 
plan  of  keeping  her  here  for  good  will's  sake  and 
company,  or  until  some  safe  and  sane  disposition 
of  her  future  could  be  made.  Her  hard,  work-all- 
day  training,  now  also  disclosed  itself  for  almost  the 
first  thing  she  said  after  his  greeting  was  "  Can't  I 
help  you  some,  sir,  or  do  something  if  I  am  to  stay  ?  " 

137 


138  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  Wai,  ye  might,"  he  answered  pleased  at  this, 
"  mother's  in  the  garden  pickin'  currants,  ye  kin 
jine  her  if  ye  like,"  and  Myrtle  did.  More  than 
that  she  "  took  holt "  as  the  farmers  would  say,  at 
supper-getting,  dish-washing  and  so  forth,  an  action 
and  intent  alike  pleasing  to  all.  And  that  evening 
a  consultation  was  held  and  proposal  made  the  girl 
that  came  near  keeping  her  there  indefinitely. 

"  Ye  say,  Iva,"  the  old  farmer  asserted  now  ad- 
dressing her  by  the  name  she  had  given,  "  that  ye 
hain't  no  fixed  plan  in  yer  mind  or  place  sot  on  fer 
reachin' ;  only  ye  want  work,  which  is  to  yer  credit. 
Now  this  world  is  a  purty  wide  range  fer  a  young 
gal  like  you,  'n'  thar's  a  good  many  wolves  in  sheep's 
clothin'  in  it.  In  the  fust  place  'n'  'thout  meanin' 
to  be  pryin',  hev  ye  got  much  money  with  ye  ? " 

"  I  have  some,  sir,"  she  answered  nervously,  "  all 
I  shall  need  to  go  anywhere,  and  more." 

"  Wai,  so  fur  so  good,  but  s'pose  ye  don't  find  work 
'n'  s'pose  ye  get  robbed  what  then? 

"  Now,"  he  continued,  not  waiting  for  an  answer, 
"you'll  'scuse  us,  but  we  figger,  mother  'n'  I,  that 
you've  started  on  a  Tom-fool  errand,  an'  'scuse  me 
agin  fer  bein'  blunt,  ye  ain't  togged  out  jest  right 
fer  it.  What  ye  run  away  fer  ain't  no  concern  o' 
ours,  no  doubt  ye  had  to;  but  goin'  on  in  the  fix  ye 
are,  is.  Now  we  kinder  think  ye  best  stay  here 


INTO    THE    GBEAT    WORLD  139 

a  spell,  help  'round  the  house,  mother'll  take  ye 
over  to  the  village  'n'  get  some  new  calico  fer  a 
dress  o'  two,  some  shoes  V  a  hat  like  wimmen  wear, 
an'  then  if  ye  must  go  on,  go  rigged  ez  a  gal  orter 
be." 

It  was  homely  advice,  wise  advice,  and  Myrtle 
was  keen  enough  to  realize  it.  And  now  another 
fixed  conclusion  came  to  her.  She  had  planned  to 
meet  Mark  at  his  bidding;  that  had  been  sent  her 
but  she  knew  full  well  that  she  would  never  learn 
it  or  where  to  meet  him.  She  had  his  card  wrapped 
in  the  roll  of  money  now  in  her  bosom  (she  thought) 
but  to  go  on  to  that  city,  dressed  as  she  was,  was 
out  of  the  question. 

"  I'll  stay  here  a  few  days  if  you  will  be  so 
kind  as  to  keep  me,"  she  responded  after  a  pause. 
"  I  know  I  must  get  some  new  clothes  and  shoes." 

"  That's  right,  quite  right,"  ejaculated  the  farmer, 
pleased  that  so  much  had  been  conceded,  "  an'  when 
ye  git  fixed  up  'n'  find  ye  kin  hitch  hosses  with 
us ;  mebbe  ye'll  conclude  to  stay  for  reasonable  wages, 
say  three  dollars  a  week  and  keep  ?  "  More  of  this 
talk  of  ways  and  means  followed,  these  two  now  be- 
lieving the  girl  would  conclude  to  remain  with  them, 
and  finally  her  sense  of  secrecy  or  need  of  conceal- 
ment wore  away  and  after  first  exacting  a  promise  of 
never  to  tell  anyone,  she  made  a  clean  breast  of  her 


140  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

past  life  and  where  she  came  from.  Only  one  thing 
was  retained,  her  meeting  with  Mark  and  his  interest 
in  her.  That  was  a  sacred  secret  she  would  not 
now  or  ever,  disclose  under  torture.  A  surprise  also 
came  to  her  after  this  recital. 

"  I  know  Cap'n  Jud,  'n'  what  sort  o'  man  he  is 
'n'  all  about  him,"  the  farmer  exclaimed  after  she 
had  told  so  much.  "  'N'  you,  too,"  he  added  smil- 
ing. "  Sandy  Bay  ain't  more'n  fifteen  miles  from 
here  cross  kentry  'n'  I  was  thar  'bout  two  years  ago. 
I  don't  blame  ye  fer  runnin'  away,"  he  continued, 
sympathetically,  "  they  told  me  that  Cap'n  Jud  was 
a  regular  old  skeezicks  'n'  all-round  cuss,  'n'  how 
he  licked  ye,  kept  ye  from  goin'  to  meetin'  'n'  'thout 
decent  clothes.  Ye  needn't  worry  'bout  us  tellin' 
on  ye;  we're  too  sorry  fer  ye,  Iva." 

Another  surprise,  this  time  a  painful  one,  came 
to  the  girl  after  the  evening  of  pleasant  exchange 
ended,  for  her  first  act  after  the  seclusion  of  her 
room  was  reached  was  to  take  out  the  precious  roll 
of  money  to  look  at  Mark's  card. 

But  that  was  missing! 

How,  and  in  what  way  she  had  lost  it  she  could 
not  guess,  only  it  was  gone  and  with  it  all  hope  of 
being  enabled  to  reach  him  by  letter  or  find  him  in 
the  great  city  he  came  from. 


INTO    THE    GKEAT    WORLD  141 

And  then  this  unsophisticated  and  timid  girl  sat 
down  and  cried. 

She  had  dared  a  desperate  flight  by  night,  meant 
to  take  a  train  and  go  far  away,  then  stop  at  some 
point  and  obtain  simple  but  decent  raiment,  next 
look  for  and  find  work  and  when  once  so  established, 
to  write  Mark,  or  if  forced  to,  finally  go  to  him. 
He  was  all  her  hope  and  mainstay.  No  thought  of 
the  impropriety  of  so  going  to  him  entered  her  in- 
nocent mind,  for  reared  as  she  had  been  and  un- 
tutored in  the  world's  way,  he  seemed  to  her  as  the 
Savior  would  to  a  Christian  believer. 

But  the  money  was  safe,  six  ten  and  two  twenty- 
dollar  bills,  and  as  she  once  had,  so  she  now  again 
kissed  them.  Not  because  they  were  so  much  money, 
but  from  the  fact  that  they  represented  the  means  to 
go  on,  to  escape  the  shame  of  her  past  life,  and  dress 
herself  "  fit  to  be  seen." 

With  morning  also  came  more  courage  and  resig- 
nation to  her  fate.  With  it,  as  well,  the  need  of 
caution  and  the  thought  that  she  better  not  be  seen 
in  this  near-by  village.  That  she  now  disclosed  to 
these  new  friends  with  the  outcome  that  they  went 
shopping  instead  while  she  remained  in  seclusion 
here.  A  week  of  more  peace  and  happiness  than 
she  had  ever  known  in  all  her  life  before  now  en- 


142  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

sued;  the  cutting,  fitting,  and  making  of  a  new  dress 
by  this  embryo  mother  and  daughter  became  a  part 
of  it;  a  young  lady's  summer  hat,  stockings,  shoes, 
gloves,  and  parasol,  were  also  obtained  by  an  ex- 
penditure of  thirty-four  dollars,  and  then  Miss  Myrtle 
Baldwin,  alias  Iva  Stone,  surveyed  herself  in  a  mir- 
ror, felt  herself  Somebody  and  wished  Mark  could  see 
her  now  1  And  with  reason,  for  modest  as  her 
raiment  was ;  a  grey  flannel  outing  costume,  severely 
simple,  a  white  collar  and  sailor  tie  of  dark  blue, 
shell  combs  to  hold  the  thick  coils  of  hair,  with  the 
rose-tinted  cheeks,  expressive  eyes  and  well-rounded 
form,  produced  a  picture  all  men  would  admire. 
With  this  also  came  a  new  courage  and  self-reliance. 
~No  longer  was  she  the  much-abused  slave  on  Folly 
Island  compelled  to  perform  the  filthiest  work  amid 
fish-house  odors,  but  freed  from  that  forever.  Never 
again  would  she  set  foot  on  that  barren  island  or 
be  cursed  and  beaten !  The  world  and  a  new  life  was 
before  her  and  she  ready  to  face  it,  garbed  as  a 
young  lady  should  be,  or  at  least  decently.  One 
pang  only  came  as  a  reminder;  her  poor  flowers 
must  now  wither  and  die,  and  her  dearly  loved  play- 
house remain  unvisited. 

And  then  she  thought  of  Mark ! 

Ah  me,  in  spite  of  this  new  life  and  hope,  where 
was  he  and  was  she  ever  to  meet  him  again  ? 


INTO  THE  GREAT  WORLD  143 

Neither  had  she  now  a  suspicion  that  during  this 
week  of  seclusion  and  transformation,  lie;  a  muck- 
worried  and  decidedly  unhappy  man,  had  four  times 
sped  by  her  hiding  spot  on  a  train,  or  had  been 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  her,  that  he  had  visited 
Folly  Island  to  meet  insult  and  defiance,  had  ques- 
tioned every  conductor  on  the  line  to  learn  if  they 
had  seen  a  girl  like  her,  and  was  at  this  moment, 
many  hundred  miles  away  and  sadly  vexed  by  the 
problem  of  where  to  find  her. 

But  the  fear  of  her  grandfather  still  remained. 
Scarce  a  moment  of  all  this  week  of  new  life  had 
been  free  from  this  insidious  dread,  she  had  seen 
him  in  her  dreams  with  face  fierce  in  anger  and  hold- 
ing aloft  that  black-snake  whip,  had  heard  him  shout 
"  Come,  strip,  ye  shameless  hussy ! "  and  then 
weakened,  faint  and  trembling  from  this  fear  and 
humiliation.  That  he  was  likely  to  pursue  her  she 
felt  sure;  that  he  could  and  would  drag  her  back 
to  Folly  Island  if  found,  she  also  believed;  and  so 
her  only  safety  lay  in  going  on  and  absolutely  hid- 
ing herself.  But  that  week  of  her  stay  in  the  home 
of  Anson  Cony  had  wakened  a  unique  interest  in 
him.  He  had  never  been  blessed  with  a  daughter, 
his  two  sons  had  grown  up,  gone  away,  and  had 
homes  of  their  own,  and  now  this  unfortunate  runa- 
way girl,  with  all  that  made  her  interesting,  had 


144  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

dropped  into  his  daily  life  like  a  young  angel.  She 
had  met  him  every  morning  with  a  dog-like  look 
of  gratitude,  followed  and  watched  him  at  the  milk- 
ing, pig-feeding  and  other  chores,  was  anxious  to 
help  in  any  way  possible,  and  thankful  for  the  chance, 
and  was  as  much  so  with  "  mother."  Day  by  day 
she  had  grown  into  his  feelings;  like  a  flower  open- 
ing to  the  sun,  so  had  her  face  and  self-helpful  soul 
opened  to  him;  and  now  he  very  much  wanted  her 
to  stay.  Then  her  plan  of  going  to  some  far-away 
town  to  find  work  seemed  all  wrong.  She  could  of 
course  obtain  employment  and  support  herself  but 
it  was  a  cheerless  outlook  for  a  young  girl  and  he 
too,  though  a  farmer,  knew  full  well  how  many  pit- 
falls lay  in  her  path. 

"  Ye'd  best  stay  with  us,  Iva,  'n'  run  yer  chances," 
he  said  the  last  evening  of  her  stay.  "  Nobody 
round  here  knows  who  ye  be  'n'  whar  ye  cum  from, 
an'  we  kin  fix  up  some  story  'bout  you  bein'  an  or- 
phan my  son  Abner  wanted  a  home  for.  Ye  kin 
change  yer  name  fer  a  spell,  an'  if  wuss  comes  to 
wuss  'n'  yer  grandad  shows  up,  ye  kin  swear  ye 
are  of  age,  'n'  I  kin  take  the  law  fer  defense.  We 
hain't  no  darter  o'  our  own.  We've  kinder  took  ye 
into  our  feelin's,  'n'  ez  ye  kin  help  'n'  take  wages  for 
it,  ye  hain't  no  cause  for  feelin'  obligated." 

It  was  all  a  very  nice  plan  and  proposal ;  it  almost 


INTO  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  145 

brought  tears  to  poor  Myrtle's  eyes,  but  the  insensate 
dread  of  her  ogre  grandfather,  the  ever-present  shame 
of  her  birth  —  the  bar  sinister  —  and  an  underly- 
ing will  and  wish  to  escape  that  last  and  worst  humili- 
ation decided  her. 

"  I  thank  you  ever  so  much,"  she  said  in  response 
to  all  this,  "  but  I'd  best  go  on  somewhere  and  find 
work  where  no  one  knows  who  I  am  or  can  find  out. 
I  can  write  to  you,"  she  added  hopefully,  "  and 
some  day  maybe  I  can  come  back  and  visit  you." 

Poor  girl,  she  little  realized  how  Fate  and  the 
tides  of  life  would  sweep  her  onward  and  to  for- 
get this  promise. 

Another  and  quite  unexpected  factor  in  her  life 
cropped  out  the  next  morning  when  "  father  "  had 
hitched  up  his  sedate  nag,  and  was  ready  to  convey 
her  to  the  station. 

"  Here  is  a  letter,"  she  said  shyly  to  the  rotund 
Mrs.  Cony.  "  It's  for  some  one  I  know,  a  Mr.  Mark 
Mason  and  he  may  come  here  looking  for  me.  I 
promised  to  write  him  but  I've  lost  his  address." 

No  more,  not  a  word  of  betrayal  of  him  or  his  in- 
terest in  her  or  how  his  advice  or  money  was  re- 
sponsible for  this  escapade  of  hers.  Just  the  for- 
lorn hope  thus  admitted,  that  he  might  "come  here 
seeking  her,  and  if  so  would  receive  her  message. 

"  Ye  hain't  told  me  whar  ye're  headin'  for,"  the 


146  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

old  farmer  said  to  her  on  the  way  to  the  station  and 
bringing  this  matter  up  for  the  first  time.  "  Ye'd 
orter,  too,"  he  added  hesitating,  "  we  sartinly  want 
to  know,  fer  ye  might  git  into  trouble." 

"  I  don't  know,  myself,"  she  answered  in  her  utter 
ignorance  of  what  travel  meant,  "  I  just  thought  I'd 
get  onto  the  train,  ride  a  long  way  off  and  then 
look  for  work.  I  shan't  feel  safe  until  I  am  so  far 
from  here  no  one  can  find  me." 

That  this  was  a  rather  vague  plan  never  occurred 
to  her.  It  did  later,  however. 

But  parting  from  this  old  farmer  —  the  first  man 
who  had  ever  acted  like  a  father  to  her, —  was  not 
an  easy  matter.  And  even  at  the  station,  her  courage 
came  near  failing  and  she  felt  like  going  back  with 
him.  The  world  she  had  been  so  eager  to  escape 
into  seemed  a  more  forbidding  one  now  that  she  was 
actually  about  to  take  the  plunge,  and  the  question 
of  where  she  was  to  stop  a  more  pertinent  one.  The 
only  faith  that  nerved  her  to  it  was,  the  belief  she 
could  easily  find  work  anywhere  and  so  earn  food 
and  shelter.  Work  had  been  her  portion  so  far,  she 
had  been  taught  that  that  was  all  she  was  fit  for, 
so  now  this  education  became  her  religion,  as  it  were. 

But  when  the  train  came  roaring  up  to  the  sta- 
tion —  the  first  one  ever  seen  by  her  except  at  a 
distance  during  the  past  week  —  she  began  to 


INTO  THE  GREAT  WORLD          147 

tremble,  and  had  farmer  Cony  been  keener-eyed  at 
this  moment,  he  could  have  taken  her  by  the  arm  and 
led  her  away  without  a  word  of  resistance. 

"  Wai,  good-bye,  Girlie,  'n'  God  bless  ye,"  he  said 
instead.  "  Take  good  care  o'  yerself  'n'  don't  ferget 
to  write  us."  Then  with  a  sudden  and  quite  unex- 
pected heart-throb  he  bent  and  kissed  her.  As  for 
poor  Myrtle,  the  ignorant  yet  courageous  waif  of 
Folly  Island,  she  could  not  speak.  And  when  once 
in  the  car,  and  peeping  out  of  the  window  for  a  part- 
ing look  at  the  kindly  old  man,  a  mist  of  tears  hid 
even  the  station. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  GROWL  OF  A  SEA-DOG 

LOVE  to  a  man  is,  after  all  said  about  it  by  poets 
and  romancers,  merely  an  episode  of  bis  existence. 
To  some,  it  comes  early  in  life  and  is  therefore  more 
painful,  also  bearing  the  earmarks  of  precosity.  To 
others,  it  arrives  later  and  then  more  apt  to  be 
tempered  by  selfish  consideration.  In  Mark's  case 
it  began  from  a  sense  of  pity  for  this  unfortunate 
fisher-maid,  and  grew  with  his  really  generous  in- 
tention to  befriend  her.  In  a  way,  or  rather  in  a 
moment  of  romantic  sympathy,  he  had  assumed  a 
sort  of  protectorship  over  her  future  and  once  ac- 
cepted in  that  role  the  rest  of  the  charming  illusion 
followed. 

He  also,  while  awaiting  her  arrival  on  the  date 
and  at  the  place  appointed  formulated  all  his  plans 
regarding  her,  how  he  wished  her  to  go  with  him 
to  this  Good  Will  Farm  as  his  fiancee  and  so  remain 
a  year  to  improve  herself  in  study  and  social  ways. 
That  her  coming  in  response  to  his  letter  was  a 
virtual  acceptance  of  his  proposal  he  also  considered, 

148 


THE    GBOWL   OF    A    SEA-DOG  149 

and  the  more  he  recalled  her  demeanor  during  their 
last  meeting,  how  sure  he  was  he  could  have  gathered 
her  in  his  arms  at  the  moment  of  parting,  and 
how  sweet  her  face  upraised  in  the  moonlight  was, 
the  more  anxious  he  became  for  her  arrival.  He  had 
no  need  to  woo  her  any  more,  she  was  coming  now, 
as  his  to  watch  over,  protect,  and  love  without  fur- 
ther question;  and  Mark  an  eager  lover  now,  paced 
the  platform,  consulted  his  watch,  and  awaited  the 
morning  train.  It  was  late  this  time,  almost  twenty 
minutes,  each  one  counted  by  Mark,  and  when  no 
rosy-cheeked  fisher-maid  alighted  from  it,  he  felt 
woefully  disappointed.  A  six-hour  wait  until  the 
afternoon  one  followed  and  when  she  failed  to  ar- 
rive on  that  he  grew  seriously  worried.  Some  slip  in 
the  plan  he  was  sure  had  occurred,  and  cogitating 
upon  this;  how  seldom  she  could  go  to  Sandy  Bay 
or  how  Cap'n  Jud  might  have  intercepted  the  let- 
ter; Mark  felt  convinced  he  had  and  thus  actually 
hit  upon  the  real  reason  for  her  failure  to  come. 

But  wait  another  day  he  must  to  be  safe ;  it  would 
never  do  to  have  her  come  here  and  not  meet  him, 
and  so  he  did,  and  a  most  miserable  and  long-drawn- 
out  one  it  was,  too ! 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  he  took  the 
first  train  for  Sandy  Bay. 

Arriving  at  that,  a  flag-station  on  the  line,  Mark 


150 

found  himself  the  only  alighting  passenger  with  no 
person,  stage,  or  stage  driver  in  sight.  Only  the 
narrow,  sandy  road  crossing  the  track  here  and  point- 
ing the  way  under  a  blazing  July  sun.  Recalling 
his  ride  over  its  ten  miles  of  ups  and  downs,  a  week 
or  more  previous  with  the  voluble  Barney,  Mark 
felt  that  his  slow  horse  and  wornout  carryall  would 
be  worth  ten  dollars  an  hour  and  cheap  at  that.  But 
there  was  no  help  for  it  now.  Walk  he  must  or  hunt 
for  some  farmer  to  carry  him  to  Sandy  Bay  and 
there  wasn't  a  house  in  sight.  He  could,  of  course, 
wait  here  six  hours  for  Barney's  arrival  then,  but 
just  now  Mark  was  in  no  mood  for  waiting.  It  was 
ten  when  he  started  for  Sandy  Bay  looking  fresh 
as  a  daisy  with  spotless  linen,  jaunty  summer  suit, 
straw  hat  and  shiny  tan  shoes;  it  was  two  p.  m. 
when  he  arrived  there,  his  collar  a  limp  rag,  clothes 
brown  with  dust,  face  sunburned,  blisters  on  each 
of  his  heels,  and  he,  faint  from  hunger.  A  lunch  of 
crackers  and  cheese  washed  down  by  lukewarm  soda 
water  revived  him  somewhat,  and  parrying  Amos 
Orton's  inquisitive  questions  as  best  he  could,  Mark 
paid  for  his  lunch  and  started  for  Folly  Island. 
And  the  nearer  he  got  to  it  with  those  blistered  heels 
asserting  themselves  at  every  step,  the  more  he  felt 
like  throttling  this  surly  sea-dog  Cap'n  Jud  and 
choking  him  into  abject  submission.  But  that  fisher- 


THE    GROWL    OF    A    SEA-DOG  151 

man  wasn't  built  that  way,  as  Mark  realized  by  the 
time  he  reached  the  bridge  and  looked  down  at  the 
wharf,  and  here  he  paused  to  cool  off  bodily  and 
mentally. 

And  now  the  peculiar  mission  that  lay  before  him 
began  to  assert  itself.  He  didn't  know  whether  the 
girl  was  here  or  not  now,  or  whether  Cap'n  Jud  had 
learned  of  her  runaway  plan  and  thwarted  it  or  not. 
Neither  had  he  dared  ask  the  storekeeper  any  ques- 
tions for  his  errand  here  was  a  most  unique  and 
delicate  one.  If  Myrtle  was  here,  well  and  good,  he 
would  find  her,  ask  the  whys  and  wherefores  of  her 
failure  to  meet  him,  if  the  letter  reached  her  or  not, 
and  then  govern  himself  accordingly.  If  she  had 
gone,  it  complicated  matters  seriously,  for  above  all 
he  must  learn  where  she  had  gone,  or  when,  if  pos- 
sible, and  without  compromising  either  her  or  him- 
self. His  first  move  was  to  visit  the  wharf  and  here 
he  saw  Cap'n  Jud's  big  dory  was  missing  so  that 
obnoxious  man  must  be  absent  and  Mark  felt  re- 
lieved. He  looked  all  around,  and  began  to  hope 
that  the  worst  happening  was  the  girl's  failure  to  re- 
ceive his  letter  and  that  she  even  now  might  be  at 
her  garden  or  stone  hut.  And  then  he  sauntered  to- 
wards the  house. 

It  was  not  an  imposing  structure  this  weather- 
beaten,  paintless,  lean-to  shaped  dwelling,  yet  some- 


152  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

how  the  three  open-porthole  attic  windows,  the  open 
door  with  ship's  figure-head  perched  above  it  and 
leaning  outward,  all  seemed  to  menace  him.  Never 
before  in  his  life  had  he  felt  afraid  of  a  house;  now 
his  heart  began  to  thump  in  an  unusual  manner. 
But  go  on  he  must,  and  like  a  schoolboy  making  his 
first  call  on  a  sweet-heart  so  now  Mark  stepped  up 
and  knocked  on  the  door-casing.  A  very  thin  old 
lady  whose  calico  dress  hung  like  an  apron  on  a 
picket  fence  and  wearing  spectacles,  emerged  from 
an  inner  room,  nodded  and  then  looked  at  him  curi- 
ously. 

"  Is  Captain  Jud  at  home  ? "  Mark  questioned 
after  bowing  deferentially. 

"  No  sir,  he's  off  fishin',"  she  answered. 

"  Is  your  granddaughter,  the  young  lady  I  saw  at 
the  wharf  last  week,  about  now  ? "  was  Mark's  next 
query  while  his  heart  gave  an  extra  thump. 

And  then  a  surprise  came. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir,  and  what  do  ye  want  o*  her  ?  " 
Aunt  Perth  now  exclaimed  in  almost  terror.  "  Oh, 
don't  ye  know  she  drownded  herself,  the  poor,  poor 
child !  An'  be  you  the  one  who  writ  her  the  letter  ? 
O  mercy  me,"  and  then  she  sank  into  a  chair  sob- 
bing. 

"  Good   God,   do  you  mean  it  ? "   Mark  gasped, 


THE    GKOWL    OF    A    SEA-DOG  153 

scarce  believing,  and  all  his  foolish  fear  vanishing 
in  the  face  of  this  horrible  happening. 

"  Oh,  we  don't  know,  sir,"  Aunt  Perth  moaned 
still  sobbing,  "  only  the  letter  came.  Judson  read 
it  and  —  and  there  was  words  —  and  next  day  her 
dress  was  found  on  the  bridge." 

Then  Mark  turned  away,  sick  at  heart  and  realiz- 
ing as  never  before,  how  dear  this  girl  had  become 
to  him. 

Still  he  couldn't  quite  believe  it  was  so,  and  walk- 
ing away,  head  down  as  if  looking  for  hope  on  the 
ground,  he  suddenly  recalled  his  advice  to  her  to 
go  away  in  such  a  manner  that  these  people  would 
believe  she  had  thrown  herself  into  the  ocean.  It 
was  foolish  advice,  even  heartless,  as  Mark  now  re- 
alized, but  Cap'n  Jud  was  then  the  sole  person  he 
had  in  mind.  With  this  new  conclusion  came  a  throb 
of  hope.  Surely  she  had  done  just  as  he  told  her 
in  her  way  of  going,  his  letter  had  been  intercepted 
as  he  now  knew,  and  desperate  as  was  the  step,  this 
brave  girl  had  gone  away  with  no  one  to  meet  her! 

And  at  this  moment  Mark  felt  like  taking  his  hat 
off  to  her  for  that  courage  and  saying,  "  Thank 
God!" 

To  the  point  and  her  playhouse  he  next  turned 
his  steps  and  somehow  that  pitiful  little  hut  now 


154  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

seemed  like  an  open  tomb  facing  the  sad  and  moan- 
ing ocean.  All  around  it  he  peeped  and  peered.  In- 
side was  the  old  chair  she  had  brought  out  for  his 
use,  the  books  still  in  the  shelved  box,  and  on  the 
greensward  withered  blossoms  and  leaves  from  the 
bouquet  she  had  arranged  for  him.  And  these 
seemed  like  the  faded  flowers  one  sees  on  a  grave. 
For  a  long  moment  he  stood  glancing  at,  and  into, 
the  odd  little  structure  he  was  never  likely  to  set 
eyes  on  again,  and  then  he  suddenly  spied  a  white 
card  just  inside  the  door.  He  picked  it  up  and  gave 
a  start  for  it  was  the  one  he  had  given  her  bearing 
his  address!  Doubtless  she  had  dropped  it  here  by 
mistake  and  unless  her  memory  served,  was  now  far 
away  without  knowing  where  to  reach  him ! 

And  once  again,  and  more  than  ever  before,  he  now 
realized  his  own  stupidity  in  not  coming  here  at 
once  as  Mr.  Hinckley  had  advised. 

But  there  was  no  help  for  it  now.  Gone  she  was, 
but  where  and  whence  there  were  none  to  tell.  And 
now  looking  at  that  little  white  card  unconsciously, 
and  trying  to  follow  her  in  her  flight  he  recalled 
Aunt  Perth's  words  and  saw  it  all.  This  brute,  her 
grandfather  had  taken  her  letter  —  his  letter  — 
from  the  Sandy  Bay  post  office,  and  in  his  supreme 
and  lawless  arrogance  had  opened  and  read  it  —  the 
plans  for  escape,  marriage  proposal  and  all !  There 


THE    GROWL    OF   A    SEA-DOG  155 

had  been  a  scene  — "  words  "  this  old  crone  had  ad- 
mitted, the  girl  had  undoubtedly  been  cursed,  prob- 
ably struck,  perhaps  whipped,  and  in  her  blind  anger 
and  desperation  had  fled  at  once.  The  only  hope 
Mark  now  had  was  that  she  had  not  been  robbed 
of  her  money  by  this  vile  and  vicious  grandfather,  or 
would  not  lose  it ! 

To  her  little  garden  spot  Mark  next  turned  his 
steps  and  here  again  was  the  mute  evidence  of  her 
absence,,  for  most  of  the  flowers  were  sadly  in  need 
of  water,  and  weeds  were  well  started  amongst  them. 
Then  Mark  counted  the  days  since  his  departure. 
One,  two,  three,  four,  then  the  letter  with  its  one 
week  of  grace,  and  two  days  now  added,  thirteen  in 
all.  No  wonder  the  weeds  had  appeared!  And  in 
that  time  what  might  not  have  happened  to  her  ? 

But  self-reproaches  and  speculation  were  useless 
now.  She  had  gone,  this  much-abused  girl  he  meant 
to  make  his  wife  in  spite  of  everything;  and  to  find 
her  if  it  took  years  was  his  next  duty. 

But  first  this  grandfather  and  a  few  words  with 
him!  And  by  this  time  Mark  was  in  a  mood  al- 
most to  murder  that  surly  brute. 

To  the  wharf  Mark  now  hastened  to  await  his  usual 
late  afternoon  return.  But  his  big  yellow-brown 
dory  was  still  missing,  so  Mark,  to  pass  the  time 
began  a  careful  survey  of  that  spot  and  its  sur- 


156  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

roundings  that  now  held  an  almost  tragic  interest. 
The  old  dismantled  wreck,  a  breakwater  for  the 
wharf,  was  now,  at  ebb  tide,  three-quarters  out  of 
water  and  peering  over  its  bulwarks  he  saw  star  fish 
clinging  to  the  weed-draped  and  rotting  ribs.  The 
spile  wharf,  a  many-legged  structure  stood  high  out 
of  water  and  littered  with  a  confusion  of  broken 
lobster  pots,  trawl  tubs  and  floats;  the  fish-house 
packed  full  of  salting  tubs  and  empty  mackerel  kits, 
still  retained  its  mixed  odors,  near  it  wedged  be- 
tween rocks  was  a  try-kettle  half  full  of  fish-oil 
and  the  long  rack  upon  which  he  had  seen  Myrtle 
spreading  fish  was  now  bare  of  them.  Evidently 
the  perpetual  curing  process  had  been  halted  in  this 
respect.  The  same  confused  untidiness  was  visible 
all  about,  however,  as  if  everything  brought  here  from 
sea  or  land  had  been  dropped  at  the  handiest  point, 
and  makeshift  and  negligence  were  written  every- 
where. Somehow,  too,  as  Mark  now  looked  the  un- 
poetic  and  ill-smelling  spot  over,  recalling  as  he  did 
this  girl  at  her  filthy  work  and  contrasted  it  with 
what  her  play-house  and  flower  garden  had  told  him 
of  her  nature  and  sentiment ;  the  wonder  was  how  she 
had  stood  it  as  long  as  she  had !  And  beyond  that  to 
be  almost  a  slave,  under  the  domination  of  this 
brutal  man!  That  she  had  been  ready  to  grasp  the 
first  helping  hand  and  escape  it  was  no  surprise,  or 


THE    GROWL    OF    A    SEA-DOG  157 

even  that  she  had  taken  the  desperate  step  she  had ! 
For  a  long  hour  Mark  lounged  about  this  spot  watch- 
ing the  rising  tide,  smoking,  and  listening  to  the  low 
monotone  of  the  ocean,  then  suddenly,  faint  above 
that  he  caught  the  clank  of  oars  and  soon  Cap'n  Jud, 
half  upright,  facing  forward,  and  pushing  them,  en- 
tered the  cove. 

The  crucial  moment  had  come!  But  Mark,  dur- 
ing the  long  wait  had  schooled  himself  to  meet  it  now, 
cool,  commanding,  and  without  anger.  He  watched 
Cap'n  Jud  pull  alongside  the  float  from  his  vantage 
point  on  a  rock  at  the  end  of  the  wharf;  saw  that 
grizzled  fisherman  step  out,  give  a  slight  start  at 
sight  of  him,  then  stoop,  make  fast  his  dory,  hesitate 
a  moment,  and  then  stride  up  the  wharf  and  halt  ten 
feet  away.  Then  Mark  arose  slowly  and  indolently, 
but  with  a  firm  purpose. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Cap'n  Jud  ?  "  he  said,  his  eyes 
holding  their  gaze  firm  and  unflinching  on  the  steely 
ones  of  Cap'n  Jud.  One  instant  of  this  eye-duel, 
then  the  sharkish  ones  of  Cap'n  Jud  weakened  and 
were  lowered.  "  Wai,"  he  queried  in  slow  sullen 
tones,  "  what  are  ye  doin'  back  here,  'n*  what  ye 
want  now  ? " 

"  I  want  two  things,"  demanded  Mark,  as  slowly 
but  more  commanding ;  "  first,  I  want  to  know  where 
your  grandchild  is,  and  second,  what  you  mean  by 


158  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

breaking  the  United  States  law  and  opening  my  let- 
ter to  her !  " 

No  mincing,  no  evasions,  just  a  direct  body  blow 
and  to  the  point.  But  Cap'n  Jud  never  quailed. 

"  I  dunno's  it  any  o'  your  damned  business  whar 
she  is  or  what  I've  done,"  he  snarled  in  answer. 
"  This  'ere's  my  land  your  on,  'n'  the  sooner  ye  git 
off  it  the  better." 

"  I  shan't  hurry,"  Mark  responded  in  as  defiant  a 
tone,  "  and  you'd  best  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your 
head.  I  know  all  about  you  and  your  abuse  of  this 
girl  I've  asked  to  marry  me.  I  know  how  you  in- 
tercepted and  read  her  letter,  then  probably  used  a 
whip  on  her  like  the  brute  you  are.  I  believe,  too, 
your  inhuman  treatment  has  driven  her  to  her  death. 
There  is  a  law  in  this  land,"  he  added,  more  de- 
fiantly, "  and  by  the  Eternal  God  I'll  make  you  suf- 
fer for  this  crime  or  my  name  isn't  Mark  Mason !  " 

It  was  hot  shot,  fearless  words,  and  Mark,  safe 
in  the  position  of  a  man  who  had  honorably  asked 
a  woman  to  marry  him,  knew  he  could  utter  them. 

"  I  want  to  know,"  he  again  demanded  stretching 
himself  to  his  full  six  feet  "  what  you  mean,  Cap'n 
Jud,  by  this  outrage,  this  breaking  of  law!  That's 
what  I'm  here  for  and  I'm  not  afraid  of  you  either !  " 

It  is  said  that  courage  gains  half  the  battle  and 
coupled  with  a  knowledge  of  right  is  four-fifths  of 


THE    GROWL    OF    A    SEA-DOG  159 

the  game.  In  this  case  it  was  ample,  for  Cap'n 
Jud,  who  had  never  in  his  life  before  backed  down 
from  mortal  man,  now  quailed  before  this  one,  at 
least  in  tone. 

"  I  didn't  whip  her,"  he  snarled  now  on  the  de- 
fensive, "  'n'  I  dunno  whar  she's  gone  'n'  don't  care. 
Ez  fer  the  law,"  he  added  with  a  sideways  hang-dog 
look  at  Mark,  "  ye  kin  take  it  if  ye  like  but  ye 
can't  prove  nothin'  fer  I  hain't  owned  up  to  nothin'." 

"  Somebody  else  has,  though,"  Mark  asserted  de- 
fiantly,. "  and  there  is  proof  enough  to  land  you  in 
jail  where  you  belong.  I'm  not  going  to  waste  time 
and  words  on  you  now,  you  miserable  brute,"  he 
continued  scathingly,  "  you've  made  that  poor  help- 
less girl's  life  a  little  hell  on  earth ;  you've  robbed 
her  of  everything  even  a  chance  to  attend  church; 
you've  cursed  her,  beaten  her,  starved  her,  and  now 
I  believe  have  driven  her  to  her  death,  and  by  the 
God  above  us  I'll  make  you  suffer  for  it!  " 

Then  Mark,  mad  now  all  through  and  scarce  able 
to  keep  from  leaping  upon  this  brute  and  throttling 
him,  turned  and  strode  away. 

He  believed  this  girl  was  alive,  however,  also  that 
Cap'n  Jud  supposed  she  had  thrown  herself  into 
the  sea,  and  quick  to  see  his  advantage  had  made  the 
most  of  it. 

"  I've  scared  you  good  and  hard,  you  old  shark," 


160  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

he  said  to  himself,  when  he  reached  the  bridge  and 
turned  to  look  back  at  Cap'n  Jud  still  pottering 
about  the  wharf.  "  I  know  you  don't  own  a  con- 
science but  you  may  fear  the  law,"  and  then  after  a 
long  glance  around  this  spot  that  evermore  would 
seem  a  sacred  memory  to  him,  he  hurried  away  to- 
ward the  village. 

It  had  been  a  very  short  —  and  also  long  —  four 
hours  since  he  came  that  way  but  in  that  time  his 
life's  drama  had  been  evoked. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"  BATS    IN    HIS    BELFRY  " 

IT  was  sunset  when  Mark  once  more  entered  Sandy 
Bay  and  he  now  realized  that  he  must  abide  here 
for  the  night.  All  that  two-mile  walk  over,  while 
his  blistered  heels  still  proclaimed  their  objection, 
he  had  considered  this  inevitable  conclusion  and 
how  to  meet  it.  Food  and  shelter  for  the  night  he 
must  obtain  here,  but  that  seemed  an  easy  matter 
to  an  experienced  traveler  like  him, —  the  one  thing 
that  did  vex  him  was  whether  to  parry  the  in- 
evitable questions  that  would  be  asked  him  or  ad- 
mit what  his  errand  here  was  and  possibly  obtain 
some  clue  to  the  girl's  flight.  One  or  the  other  he 
must  do,  be  open  and  frank  with  these  inquisitive 
villagers  or  deceive  as  best  he  could  all  who  quizzed 
him.  True  to  his  make-up,  however,  he  chose  the 
former  course.  There  was  also  another  reason  for 
it  as  well.  He  meant  to  avenge  the  girl's  wrongs 
if  possible,  and  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  how  better 
than  now  to  lead  them  to  believe  her  grandfather 
had  driven  her  to  suicide  and  to  admit  he  had 

161 


162  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

hoped  to  marry  her.  By  so  doing  her  good  name 
would  be  protected  and  a  well-deserved  punishment 
meted  out  to  her  brutal  grandfather. 

"  My  name's  Mason,"  he  said  to  Amos  Orton  on 
entering  that  lanky  old  Yankee's  store,  "  and  I  pre- 
sume you  recollect  me,  I  was  here  on  a  yacht  some 
two  weeks  ago.  IVe  got  caught  here,"  he  added  in- 
terrogatively, "  and  must  persuade  some  one  to  keep 
me  over  night.  Can  you  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  guess  I  kin  fix  ye  if  ye  ain't  too  fussy," 
Amos  responded,  "  we  hev  one  spare  room  over  the 
ell  'n'  I'll  go  see  the  woman  'bout  supper  right  away. 
I  cal'late  ye  mout  be  hungry  too,"  he  added  cheerily, 
"  ye  didn't  make  an  over-hearty  meal  here  this  arter- 
noon,"  and  then  he  vanished  at  the  rear  of  the  store 
leaving  Mark  in  charge. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  declared  returning  five  minutes 
later,  "  'n'  mebbe  ye'd  like  to  go  'n'  wash  up  'fore 
supper.  I'll  show  ye."  And  never  before  in  his 
life  was  Mark  more  glad  of  the  chance.  A  satisfy- 
ing though  simple  supper  served  him  a  half-hour 
later  by  the  matronly  Mrs.  Orton  who  added  "  sir  " 
to  every  inquiry,  restored  his  equanimity  somewhat, 
and  near  its  close  Mark  decided  to  relieve  the  mind 
of  this  excellent  matron  regarding  himself  at  once. 

"  I  came  here  on  a  peculiar  errand,  Mrs.  Orton," 
he  said  smiling  and  feoling  it  easier  to  admit  the 


163 

love  part  of  it  to  her  rather  than  to  a  man.  "  But 
before  I  tell  that  I  must  explain  why  I  am  here. 
About  three  weeks  ago  I  ran  into  Folly  Cove  with 
a  yachting  party  and  came  ashore  to  buy  some  lob- 
sters of  Cap'n  Jud.  At  the  wharf  I  saw  his  grand- 
daughter at  work  and  also  saw  him  abuse  her  worse 
than  one  should  a  dog.  Later  I  learned  who  she 
was,  also  what  manner  of  man  he  was  and  a  part 
of  his  history.  That  afternoon  I  came  across  this 
girl  during  a  ramble  down  over  the  island  and 
scraped  acquaintance  with  her.  I  also  met  her  twice 
after  that,  heard  a  little  more  about  her  pitiful  life 
and  —  I  am  going  to  be  quite  frank  with  you  now 
—  in  that  short  time,  during  those  three  visits  I 
fell  in  love  with  her  and  later  on  wrote  her  a  propo- 
sal of  marriage.  To-day  I  came  here  to  see  her 
again  and  what  do  you  think;  this  old  lady,  her 
Aunt  Perth,  tells  me  the  poor  girl  has  —  has  drowned 
herself  she  believes !  " 

"  Oh,  Good  Lord-a-massy,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Orton, 
sinking  into  a  chair,  "  I  can't  believe  it !  And  did 
she  git  your  letter,  sir,  do  ye  s'spose  ? " 

"  No,  that's  the  vital  part  of  it,  she  didn't,"  re- 
turned Mark  eagerly.  "  The  letter  was  taken  from 
the  post  office  here  by  Cap'n  Jud,  he  read  it,  there 
were  words  between  him  and  the  girl  —  this  Aunt 
Perth  admits, —  I  believe  that  she  was  cursed  and 


164  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

whipped  —  and  that  night  I  judge  she  either 
ran  away  or  threw  herself  into  the  sea.  I  went 
to  the  island  to-day,  learned  all  I  could  from 
this  Aunt  Perth  and  later  on  met  and  had  it  out 
with  Cap'n  Jud,  who  by  the  way  ought  to  have  been 
hanged  from  the  yard-arm  of  his  vessel  years  ago. 
And  this  is  the  how  and  why  of  my  presence  here." 
How  this  brief  but  direct  story  was  received  by 
this  worthy  woman  need  not  be  enlarged  upon. 
That  she  knew  all  about  Mark's  previous  visit  to  the 
island  and  the  girl's  history,  she  soon  admitted,  and 
all  Mark  now  had  to  do  was,  let  her  run  on  and  recite 
it.  And  in  that  recital  much  more  of  Cap'n  Jud's 
outrageous  treatment  of  this  waif  was  disclosed,  his 
name  and  character  coupled  with  all  the  epithets 
proper  for  this  woman  to  use,  and  Mark,  more  than 
ever  realized  how  disliked  Cap'n  Jud  was  at  Sandy 
Bay.  He  had  also  started  the  ball  rolling  in  the 
way  he  intended  and  so  fired  the  feelings  of  these 
Sandy  Bay  people,  so  presented  the  sins  of  this 
obnoxious  old  sea-dog,  that  his  next  reception  among 
them  would  not  be  a  flattering  one.  And  well  had 
he  succeeded,  for  Amos  Orton's  store  was  the  village 
news  agency,  Mrs.  Orton  the  one  to  spread  gossip 
fastest,  and  within  one  hour  from  the  time  Mark  told 
his  story,  every  man,  woman,  and  child  there,  be- 
lieved that  Myrtle  Baldwin,  the  deserted  waif  and 


165 

slave  of  Cap'n  Jud  had  thrown  herself  into  the 
ocean.  Also,  and  to  add  romance  to  the  sad  story, 
that  a  rich  young  yachtsman  from  the  city  and  en- 
gaged to  marry  her  was  now  in  the  village. 

In  the  meantime,  and  unconscious  how  soon  his 
story  would  spread,  Mark  had  taken  a  twilight  stroll 
through  that  fishing  port,  to  its  long  and  well-built 
wharf  beside  which  lay  a  small  coaster,  coal-laden, 
another  engaged  in  freight-carrying  between  here  and 
a  distant  city,  and  many  smaller  fishing  craft.  The 
one  industry  of  Sandy  Bay,  a  canning  factory,  was 
also  noticed  by  him,  its  little  church  and  scholhouse 
as  well,  and  before  the  latter  Mark  paused  to  recall 
what  Myrtle  had  told  him  of  her  school  life.  He 
also  wondered  if  he  should  meet  her  only  friend, 
"  Cindy,"  and  whether  it  would  be  prudent  to  in- 
quire into  her  history,  and  learn  if  she  really  de- 
served the  name  of  "  not  being  a  very  good  girl," 
as  Myrtle  had  asserted. 

Retaining  to  near  the  store  a  surprise  awaited 
Mark,  for  its  lighted  interior  was  now  packed  full 
of  men.  A  buzz  of  converse  issued  from  it  and  above 
that  rose  the  strident  voice  of  Amos  Orton. 

"  It's  a  shame,  I  say,"  was  the  first  words  Mark 
caught,  "  and  a  derned  outrage.  I  never  did  think 
much  o'  this  Cap'n  Jud,  allus  a  sulky,  surly  cuss 
'thout  a  particle  o'  good  natur  in  him.  O'  course 


166  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

we  can't  do  nothin'  'cordin'  to  law,  but  if  a  dozen  on 
us  went  down  thar  V  tarred  'n'  feathered  him  it 
'ud  sarve  him  right." 

"  I'd  make  one  on  'em  'n'  willin'ly,"  asserted  an- 
other voice,  "  an'  feelin'  I  war  doin'  the  Lord's  work 
with  that  pesky  infiddle.  He  never  dressed  the  gal 
decent,  never  let  her  come  to  meetin',  he's  cussed 
'n'  larruped  her  fer  years,  the  poor  critter,  an'  now 
comes  this." 

"  Begorra,  I've  allus  known  the  baste  had  bats  in 
his  belfry,"  piped  up  the  voice  of  Barney,  "  an'  be 
the  Powers  I'd  like  to  see  him  doin'  the  jujube  dance 
at  a  rope's  end  an'  me  at  the  other  that  I  wud! 
An'  to  think  he  druv  the  poor  gal  to  her  death! 
Holy  Mother,  but  hangin's  too  good  fer  the  loikes 
o'  him!" 

At  this  point  Mark  retreated  for  to  enter  that 
store,  now,  the  cynosure  of  so  many  curious  eyes, 
and  perchance  questions,  was  too  much  for  him.  To 
kill  time  also  he  now  withdrew  from  the  village  and 
on  its  one  overlooking  hill  sat  down  to  think. 
Neither  was  he  anxious  to  meet  or  discuss  his  af- 
fairs with  anyone  here.  He  had  told  his  little  story, 
it  had  evidently  spread  rapidly,  was  believed,  and 
Cap'n  Jud,  who  he  honestly  felt  deserved  a  coat  of 
tar  and  feathers  or  worse,  would  soon  be  made  to 
feel  how  he  was  regarded  here.  Little  did  Mark 


"  BATS    IN    HIS    BELFRY  "  167 

realize  how  soon  the  wrath  of  Sandy  Bay  would 
overtake  that  surly  brute,  or  in  what  way  poor  Myrtle 
would  be  avenged.  She  was  now  the  sole  object  and 
aim  of  his  existence,  to  find  and  care  for  her  his 
duty,  and  no  time  or  money  should  be  considered  in 
the  matter.  That  she  was  alive  somewhere,  he  felt 
sure  in  spite  of  all  he  had  learned.  Also  that 
her  flight  had  been  so  managed  that  no  one  here  sus- 
pected it.  To  them  she  was  now  far  away  on  the 
ocean  bed,  carried  seaward  by  the  tidal  current 
sweeping  through  the  passage  that  made  Folly  Island. 
Alone  and  unaided  he  must  now  search  for  her, 
leaving  these  honest  villagers  to  mete  out  punish- 
ment to  the  one  who  so  well  deserved  it. 

But  where  should  he  look  for  her? 

An  hour  or  more  of  this  useless,  vague  surmising, 
and  two  cigars  were  consumed,  and  then  Mark  re- 
turned to  the  store  to  find  Amos  its  only  occupant. 

"  IVe  ben  waitin'  fer  ye,  Mr.  Mason,"  he  said, 
"  fer  I  s'posed  ye'd  gone  off  to  be  by  yerself  an' 
think.  It's  a  purty  bad  case,  this  gal's,"  he  added 
in  sympathetic  tone,  "  'n'  comin'  sudden  like  so,  it 
must  'a'  'most  floored  ye.  Me  an'  everybody  here 
is  powerful  sorry  for  ye,  sir." 

"  It's  more  than  sad,"  returned  Mark,  shaking 
his  head,  "  and  I  don't  know  which  way  to  turn  or 
what  to  do." 


168  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

"  'N'  she  was  an'  uncommon  purty  gal,  too,  kinder 
teched  everybody  with  her  eyes,"  continued  Amos, 
"  jest  like  her  mother's.  I've  never  seen  much  o' 
her  here  arter  she  quit  school,  howsomever,  only  now 
'n'  then  on  an  errand.  'N'  I  rec'lect,  too,  giv'n' 
Cap'n  Jud  the  letter  you  writ  t'other  day  sir,  'n' 
wonderin'  who  'twas  from.  I  told  Melindy,  that's 
Mrs.  Orton,  'bout  it  then  'n'  she  wondered  too." 

"  You  and  your  wife  could  both  swear  to  this 
letter  having  arrived  here  then  ?  "  interrupted  Mark 
for  a  purpose.  "  I  may  decide  to  take  that  matter 
into  the  courts  and  have  Cap'n  Jud  arrested." 

"  Sartin,  sartin,"  rejoined  Amos  eagerly,  "  'n' 
glad  to  do  it  too.  We  don't  none  on  us  think  much  o' 
Cap'n  Jud,  I'd  swar  to  anything  agin  him  now." 

"  Well,  she  isn't  like  to  receive  many  more  let- 
ters, poor  girl,"  responded  Mark  sadly,  to  dismiss 
the  subject,  "  and  now  I  guess  I'll  turn  in." 

But  he  received  a  good  deal  more  of  it  than  he 
enjoyed  the  next  morning  while  Barney  was  convey- 
ing him  to  the  station  and  perforce  had  to  remain 
an  apparent  listener.  It  was  of  no  benefit,  however, 
all  ancient  history  now,  and  when  in  turn  he  ques- 
tioned the  voluble  Barney  not  one  hint  or  clue  could 
he  obtain  to  aid  him  in  his  intended  search.  Like 
the  others  at  Sandy  Bay,  Barney  was  sure  the  girl 
had  made  away  with  herself  in  a  moment  of  des- 


"  BATS    IN    HIS    BELFRY  "  169 

peration,  and  that  was  all  that  could  be  said  about 
it. 

The  actual  search  soon  began  however,  for  the  mo- 
ment Mark  boarded  the  train  he  had  signaled  to 
stop  there,  he  hastened  to  meet  the  conductor  and 
hopeful  at  first  began  to  question  him.  It  was  fruit- 
less, however.  That  brass-buttoned  official  had  no 
remembrance  of  any  such  girl  as  Mark  described 
having  been  carried  on  his  train  any  trip  within 
the  past  two  weeks  or  at  any  time.  He  was  sure 
he  would  recall  her  if  he  had.  He  asserted  that 
passengers  along  this  part  of  the  line  were  not  numer- 
ous, two  to  three  at  any  station  was  the  average, 
and  so  Mark's  first  hope  was  soon  dispelled.  His 
next  move  was  to  stop  off  and  wait  for  the  opposite 
bound  train,  board  that,  and  make  the  same  in- 
quiries. These  also  failed,  there  was  but  one  more 
chance  in  this  direction  for  three  conductors  at- 
tended to  the  train  service  of  this  line,  and  Mark 
rode  once  and  a  half  over  it,  passed  a  night  at  its 
terminal  town  and  over  the  line  again  to  interview 
this  third  official.  No  tidings  were  obtained  from 
him  either.  No  simply  clad  girl  of  well-developed 
form,  sun-tanned  face  and  hands,  appealing  eyes  and 
either  wearing  a  man's  soft  hat  or  any  kind  of  hat, 
had  boarded  his  train  and  Mark  began  to  despair. 
Also  to  feel  that  if  ever  these  three  conductors  met 


170  MYKTLE  BALDWIN 

and  discussed  the  matter,  he  too  would  be  considered 
as  having  "  bats  in  his  belfry." 

To  add  to  the  irony  of  fate  or  luck,  this  second 
day  of  Mark's  journey  over  this  line  was  the  one 
before  Myrtle  in  her  new  attire  boarded  a  train  and 
started  for  —  she  knew  not  where. 

But  Mark,  a  good  deal  discouraged  now  and  with 
no  sane  idea  of  how  to  proceed  next,  bethought  him- 
self of  Good  Will  Farm  and  the  advice  of  Mr.  Hinck- 
ley.  And  in  his  present  frame  of  mind  that  was  a 
wise  move. 

"  I've  made  a  fool  of  myself,"  he  bluntly  admitted 
to  that  calmer  man  when  they  met  once  more,  "  and 
I  guess  I've  lost  the  girl  I  wanted.  You  told  me 
to  do  the  one  wise  thing,  go  to  Folly  Island  at  once, 
beard  this  surly  sea-dog  in  his  kennel  and  settle 
matters  as  I  should.  Instead  of  that  I,  like  an 
idiot,  wrote  her  a  letter,  asking  her  to  marry  me. 
This  Cap'n  Jud  got  it,  opened  it,  I've  learned,  there 
was  a  scene,  a  warm  one  I  imagine,  and  the  poor  girl 
has  fled.  To  complicate  matters  she  followed  my 
fool  advice  and  left  in  such  a  way  they  think  down 
there  she  has  drowned  herself,  while  I  believe  she 
must  have  gone  inland  on  foot,  for  no  one  like  her 
even,  boarded  a  train  on  that  line." 

"Well,"  laughed  Mr.  Hinckley,  "it's  good  for 
any  man,  and  a  young  man  especially,  to  realize  that 


"  BATS    IN    HIS    BELFRY  "  171 

he  can  easily  make  a  mistake.  But  cheer  up  my 
boy,  cheer  up.  This  world  is  a  small  one,  these 
United  States  only  a  minor  portion,  and  New  Eng- 
land a  mere  corner  on  the  map.  It  may  take  time 
and  money,  but  both  wisely  applied  will  find  her. 
Now  let  us  sit  down  and  go  over  this  matter  calmly. 
You  say  you  wrote  her  a  marriage  proposal,  and 
named  place  and  time  for  meeting  her,  I  assume, 
which  letter  was  intercepted." 

"  It  was,  I  am  positive." 

"  And  this  Cap'n  Jud  would  not  or  did  not  in- 
form her  of  its  contents  ?  " 

"  I  am  certain  he  did  not." 

"  To  what  extent  did  you  show  or  assert  your 
interest  in  this  girl  while  with  her?  Enough  so 
she  might  infer  you  wished  to  marry  her  ? " 

"  Why  no,  or  rather  she  might,  I  suppose,"  hesi- 
tated Mark.  "  I  gave  her  one  hundred  dollars, 
loaned  it,  I  said,  and  assured  her  I'd  look  out  for 
her  future  welfare." 

"  Also  informed  her  where  you  lived  ?  " 

"  Of  course  and  gave  her  my  card." 

"  Any  further  assurance  of  confidence  and  interest 
in  her  personally  ?  I  am  not  prying  into  your  love 
affair,  my  boy,"  explained  Mr.  Hinckley,  "  only  I 
want  to  reach  the  basic  facts  of  this  peculiar  es- 
capade and  just  how  and  why  this  girl  was  led  to 


172  MYETLE  BALDWIN" 

take  such  a  desperate  step.  Also  whether  she  will 
feel  justified  in  trying  to  find  you." 

"  I  think  so,"  admitted  Mark,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  "  for  all  in  all  as  I  recall  our  meetings,  I 
gave  her  ample  assurance  of  —  well,  love  maybe,  ex- 
cept I  didn't  use  the  word.  I  wish  I  had  now." 

"  So  do  I,"  asserted  Mr.  Hinckley,  "  and  clinched 
that  overworked  word  with  its  natural  sequence,  a 
proposal  of  marriage,  which  should  always  follow 
and  soon,  too." 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  Mark  soberly,  for  he  had 
the  same  fine  sense  of  honor,  "  but  you  see,  this  il- 
lusion, if  you  please,  came  to  me  rather  suddenly, 
and  not  until  too  late  did  I  really  feel  I  wanted  to 
marry  this  girl.  First,  it  was  a  case  of  pity  when 
I  saw  how  abused  she  was,  next  of  interest  in  her 
almost  idyllic  innocence  and  romantic  nature,  and 
then  she  is  undeniably  handsome.  Dress  her 
properly  and  she  would  turn  most  of  her  sex  green 
with  envy." 

"I  see  you  desired  to  assume  that  privilege," 
smiled  Mr.  Hinckley,  "  only  it  came  rather  late. 
However,  I  am  satisfied  this  fair  maid  read  your 
budding  intention  aright  —  most  of  them  do  from 
inborn  intuition  —  and  she  will  either  find  her  way 
here  or  obtain  some  employment  and  then  write  you 
to  your  city  address.  A  girl  of  her  courage  and 


"  BATS   IN    HIS    BELFEY  "  173 

given  the  assurance  she  has,  will  find  the  man  some- 
how." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  responded  Mark,  who 
was  more  pessimistic,  "  she  is  or  was  rather  afraid 
of  me  I  think,  or  perhaps  considered  I  felt  above  her 
in  station.  It  would  be  natural,  dressed  as  she  was 
and  doing  the  filthy  work  she  had  to.  The  one  fact 
I  feel  may  checkmate  that  is  that  I  confided  my 
own  origin  to  her  at  our  last  meeting.  Told  her 
everything  and  all  about  you  and  my  bringing  up 
here  and  she  was  more  than  glad  to  find  I  shared 
her  misfortune. v 

"  Good,  good  again !  "  interrupted  Mr.  Hinckley, 
much  pleased,  "  and  now  I  am  more  than  ever  satis- 
fied she  will  hunt  for  you.  And  you  are  in  luck 
also  for  a  girl  like  her  will  make  you  the  most  loyal 
wife  God  ever  blessed  a  man  with,  rest  assured." 

But  Mark  wasn't  quite  convinced  that  this  win- 
some fisher  maid  would  try  to  find  him,  for  deep  in 
his  heart  he  was  conscious  he  had  held  himself  aloof 
when  he  should  have  given  her  some  expression  of 
love.  That  is,  he  had  talked  and  acted  like  a  father 
or  brother  to  her,  and  not  as  lover,  and  she  was 
—  he  now  felt  —  keen  enough  to  discover  the  dif- 
ference. 

And  so  she  was  as  the  sequel  proved. 

This  thorn  in  his  feelings  also  kept  him  awake 


174  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

that  night  at  Good  Will  Farm  while  he  alternately 
inveighed  against  his  own  missed  opportunity  or 
tried  to  think  out  what  course  she  would  now  take. 
Also,  as  most  of  us  will,  he  shook  hands  with  the 
devil  a  few  times,  or  rather  imagined  all  possible 
evils  that  could  happen  to  this  unprotected  girl  alone 
in  a  selfish  and  wicked  world.  More  than  that,  he 
now  realized  she  was  the  one  above  all  others  im- 
peratively and  absolutely  necessary  for  his  future 
happiness.  Finally,  however,  he  fell  asleep  and  so 
much  in  love  was  he  that  he  dreamed  he  saw  poor 
Myrtle  slowly  staggering  along  a  woods-bordered 
road,  faintly  visible  in  the  moonlight,  and  finally 
vanish  into  the  shadows. 

The  next  morning  he  hied  himself  away  to  the 
city. 


CHAPTER  XV 

INTO    A   SELFISH    WORLD 

MYRTLE  had  scarce  recovered  herself  and  cleared 
her  mist-filled  eyes  that  morning  on  the  train  ere 
the  conductor  halted  beside  her. 

"  Ticket,  ma'am,"  he  said  in  that  money-or-your- 
life  tone  adopted  by  most  of  his  profession,  and 
the  poor  girl  cowered  before  his  brass  buttoned 
presence. 

"  I  hain't  any  ticket,"  she  mumbled. 

"  Whar  you  goin'  ?  "  he  next  demanded. 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  she  stammered,  and  then  he 
stared  at  her.  Something  also  in  her  piteous  up- 
turned face  now  appealed  to  him  for  his  next  words 
came  in  kindlier  tones.  "Well,"  he  said  a  good 
deal  nonplussed  by  this  unusual  incident,  "you  are 
going  somewhere  ain't  you,  lady  ?  " 

"  I'll  —  I'll,  go  as  far  as  the  cars  go,"  she  an- 
swered recovering  herself,  "  how  much  does  it  cost  ?  " 

"  Two-twenty  to  B  —  and  you  get  ten  cents  draw- 
back," he  rattled  off  still  eyeing  the  scared  girl  who 
now  began  to  blush  furiously,  for  her  precious  money 

175 


176  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

was  safe  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress.  Then  she  turned 
to  the  window,  crouched  low,  unbuttoned  her  dress, 
drew  forth  the  little  roll  of  bills  and  handed  a 
ten  dollar  one  to  the  waiting  official.  Change,  one 
dollar  and  eighty  cents  of  it  in  silver,  was  handed 
her,  he  next  whipped  out  a  long  double  rebate  slip, 
punched  it,  tore  it  apart,  passed  one-half  to  her  and 
strode  on,  leaving  her  so  amazed  that  she  forgot  her 
unbuttoned  dress.  That  occurred  to  her  the  next 
instant  when  she  caught  a  sideways  glance  from  a 
man  just  across  the  aisle,  and  once  more  she  turned 
away,  crouched  and  buttoned  it.  Restored  to  herself 
a  trifle,  she  began  to  watch  the  faces  of  those  about 
her,  then  to  look  out  at  the  rapidly  moving  land- 
scape and  back  again  to  the  people  in  the  car,  when 
she  discovered  this  man  just  across  was  covertly 
watching  her. 

Once,  twice,  thrice,  she  detected  him  in  this,  not 
an  impertinent  stare,  merely  a  sly,  curious  one,  then 
she  turned  away  and  feeling  her  courage  vanishing, 
watched  the  fields  and  moving  trees  once  more. 
Soon  a  halt  at  a  station  came,  some  hurried  out,  one 
lady  vacating  the  seat  in  front  of  her,  others  came 
in  and  away  the  train  bumped  and  rattled.  And 
once  more,  her  courage  returning,  Myrtle  turned  and 
looked  squarely  at  this  man  and  this  time  he  smiled 
a  genial,  sunny  smile.  She  also  now  noticed -he  was 


INTO    A    SELFISH    WORLD  177 

a  middle-aged  man,  with  a  chin-whisker  like  the 
farmer  who  had  so  recently  befriended  her.  Some- 
how, too,  that  fact,  restored  her  courage  quite  un- 
expectedly and  the  semblance  of  a  smile  came  to 
her  face.  Surely  he  couldn't  be  a  bad  man  if  he 
wore  a  chin-whisker  like  the  good  farmer,  and  Myrtle 
took  heart.  And  now  another  and  larger  village  was 
halted  at,  more  of  the  passengers  left  the  car,  only 
two  got  in  and  the  next  Myrtle  knew  this  man  had 
crossed  the  aisle  and  taken  the  seat  in  front  of  her. 

"  'Scuse  me,  Miss,"  he  said  turning  and  smiling 
at  her  again,  "  but  I  heard  ye  tellin'  the  conductor 
ye  didn't  know  where  ye  was  goin'  so  I  made  bold  to 
speak,  ye  see.  Ain't  used  to  travelin'  be  ye  ? " 

"  No  sir,"  answered  Myrtle,  now  gladdened  by 
even  this  unexpected  interest,  "  its  the  first  time  I 
was  ever  on  a  train." 

"  Wai,  it  must  seem  curis,"  he  returned  sympa- 
thetically, "  an'  confusin'.  Of  course  ye  know  whar 
your  goin',  though  ?  " 

"  No,  I  didn't  an'  I  don't  now,"  she  answered 
unconscious  of  how  strange  an  admission  that  was. 
"  I'm  just  going  to  look  for  work." 

"  Runnin'  'way  from  home,  be  ye  ? "  he  next 
queried  watching  her  with  sideways  glance. 
"  'Scuse  me  agin,"  he  added  hastily,  "  that  ain't 
none  o'  my  consarn  only  it  looked  that  way.  You 


178  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

say  you're  lookin'  for  work,  what  sort  do  ye  cal'late 
on,  mill  work,  tendin'  store,  or  what  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  responded  more  courageously, 
"  all  I  want  is  a  chance  to  earn  my  keep  at  any  kind 
of  work." 

Then  this  shrewd,  inquisitive  and  really  well- 
meaning  Yankee  faced  around  still  more.  "  Beg 
parding,  young  lady,"  he  said  in  kindly  tone,  "  but 
ez  I'm  old  enough  to  be  yer  father,  ye  mustn't  take 
me  amiss.  I  heard  what  ye  said  to  the  conductor,  I 
watched  ye  quite  a  spell  'n'  I  figger  ye  air  in  trouble, 
or  ye  ain't  quite  right  in  yer  attic.  I  don't  think 
it's  that,"  he  added  hastily,  "  your  eyes  don't  show  it, 
so  it  must  be  trouble  your  runnin'  away  from  'n' 
ye  have  my  sympathy.  You  say  ye  want  work, 
how'd  ye  like  waitin'  on  table  'n'  mebbe  doin'  some 
chamber  work  in  a  small  hotel  ?  " 

"  I'd  be  glad  of  the  chance,"  she  answered  eagerly, 
"  and  I  am  willing  to  do  anything." 

"  Wai,  that's  the  spirit,"  he  rejoined  as  eagerly, 
"  and  I  like  it.  Now  my  name's  Barker,  John 
Barker,  I  keep  a  small  hotel,  sorter  summer  house  in 
summer  'n'  stage  stoppin'-place  in  winter  up  in  the 
mountains  an'  we  cud  use  a  likely  gal  like  you  in 
our  business  'n'  give  ye  stiddy  work.  What  wages 
would  ye  cal'late  on  gettin'  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  ought  to  have,"  she  an- 


INTO    A    SELFISH    WOELD  179 

swered  confused  again,  "  whatever  is  right  will 
satisfy  me." 

"  We  kin  fix  that  then  easy  enough,"  he  continued, 
as  if  this  settled  the  matter,  "  'n'  now  what  might 
your  name  be  ?  " 

Once  more  poor  Myrtle  grew  confused  and  realiz- 
ing her  fate  and  future  was  being  taken  out  of  her 
hands  —  suddenly.  Also  that  she  must  now  think 
and  act  for  herself.  "  My  name  is  —  is  Iva  Stone," 
she  answered  coloring,  and  feeling  guilty  at  this  her 
second  direct  falsehood. 

"  Wai,  Miss  Stone,"  rejoined  her  would-be  em- 
ployer, "  ez  we  hev  struck  a  bargain  I'd  like  to 
know  a  leetle  more  about  ye.  Whar  ye're  from  'n' 
how  ye  come  to  be  startin'  f er  nowhar  in  particular  ? 
It's  onusual  ye  know.  Now  a  likely  young  lady  like 
you,  'scuse  me,  but  ye  be  ez  any  man  kin  see, — 
ain't  goin'  off  the  way  you  be  'thout  some  good 
reason.  Is  your  folks  like  to  follow  on  arter  ye  ? " 
and  this  Yankee  landlord  of  inquisitive,  kindly  and 
shrewd  proclivities  eyed  Myrtle  keenly.  "  I  ain't 
pryin'  into  your  business,"  he  added,  "  only  it's  'most 
six  dollars  fare  from  where  we  change  cars  to  my 
town,  I  s'pect  to  pay  it  if  I  hire  ye  here,  'n'  I  don't 
want  to  be  mixed  up  in  any  fuss,  ye  see." 

The  first  step  in  self-reliance  is  the  hardest,  the 
next  comes  easier,  and  soon  we  feel  fully  able  to  take 


180 

them  all  wisely.  The  first  direct  lie  comes  hard, 
also,  and  leaves  a  sting,  the  next  hurts  less,  and  be- 
fore long  we  can  prevaricate  and  evade  with  suave 
equanimity,  and  so  it  was  with  this  unsophisticated 
and  innocent  girl. 

"  I've  no  parents  to  follow  me,"  she  responded  to 
this  pointed  inquiry,  "  or  any  one  who  cares  where 
I  go  or  what  I  do.  I  want  work,  too,  and  so  won't 
you  please  let  me  think  it  over  ?  " 

Then  Mr.  John  Barker,  surprised  at  this  modestly 
attired  young  lady  who  carried  her  money  in  her 
bosom,  had  started  for  nowhere  in  particular,  and 
yet  was  keen  enough  to  evade  his  questions  or  an- 
swer them  with  dignity ;  now  crossed  to  his  original 
seat  the  better  to  observe  her. 

And  the  more  he  scanned  her  the  more  of  an 
enigma  she  seemed.  Her  face  was  bright  and  in- 
telligent, with  a  healthy  summer  tan,  her  eyes  honest 
and  wonderfully  appealing,  hair  neatly  combed  and 
crowned  by  a  jaunty  sailor  straw  hat,  while  the  rest 
of  her  attire,  simple  enough,  was  in  good  taste. 
Beside  her  on  the  seat  reposed  a  new  grey  telescope 
case.  All  in  all,  a  decidedly  handsome  and  well- 
formed  young  lady,  far  above  the  average  table  girl 
he  could  hire  in  intelligence  and  good  appearance. 
His  keen  eyes  had  also  noted  the  roll  of  money  she 
fumbled  while  paying  her  fare,  and  that  one  was 


INTO    A    SELFISH    WORLD  181 

a  twenty  dollar  bill.  So  far  as  he  could  observe, 
she  might  be  some  well-to-do  farmer's  daughter  go- 
ing away  on  a  visit.  The  business  side  of  the  mat- 
ter —  always  uppermost  with  him  —  now  recurred. 
He  saw  that  she,  a  healthy,  handsome  young  lady 
would  grace  his  modest  dining  room  as  naught  else 
could,  her  idea  of  wages  was  vague  and  if,  as  she 
asserted,  there  were  none  to  question  her  conduct, 
she  would  indeed  be  a  prize.  Table  girls,  or  house- 
maids, who  would  remain  long  at  Conway  Hollow 
where  his  hostelry  was,  were  hard  to  find,  his  house 
was  now  full  of  summer  boarders,  he  had  been  away 
to  obtain  more  help,  and  all  in  all  this  Iva  Stone 
(romantic  name  he  thought),  was  a  lucky  find. 
After  a  half-hour  of  this  cogitation  while  he  covertly 
watched  Myrtle  he  arose  and  took  the  seat  in  front 
of  her  again. 

"  Wai,  Miss  Stone,"  he  said  in  quite  a  deferential 
tone  now,  "  I  hope  ye've  decided  to  go  with  me  ? 
It's  a  nice,  quiet  town  where  my  house  is,  thar's  a 
few  young  folks  however,  who  chirk  it  some,  your 
work  won't  be  hard  V  I'll  pay  ye  four  dollars  a 
week  till  ye  get  broke  in  'n'  five  arter  that,  V  stiddy 
work." 

But  Myrtle  was  still  undecided.  She  had  started 
with  a  vague  intention  of  going  somewhere  near  the 
city  Mark  was  from,  finding  work,  and  when  once 


182  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

secure  in  some  sheltering  home,  obtain  a  day  and 
visit  this  city  to  look  for  him.  All  this  she  had  kept 
to  herself  as  part  of  her  promise  made  him,  to  change 
it  now  meant  to  risk  losing  the  one  hope  of  her 
heart,  and  so  she  hesitated. 

"  We're  gettin'  'most  to  B "  Mr.  Barker  con- 
tinued after  a  pause  and  more  anxiously,  while  he 
eyed  Myrtle,  "  we've  got  to  take  'nother  train  thar, 
so  what  do  ye  say  ?  Kin  I  hire  ye  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  say,  sir,"  Myrtle  answered 
hesitatingly.  "I  —  I  had  thought  I'd  go  somewhere 
else." 

"  Wai,  ye  don't  need  to  be  lookin'  f er  work,"  he 
rejoined  hurriedly,  "  fer  ye  won't  do  any  better  and 
—  if  ye  say  the  word  now  I'll  make  it  five  dollars  to 
start  on.  Is  it  a  go  ?  " 

Two  needs  flashed  over  the  girl's  mind  at  this  mo- 
ment, one  that  of  a  shelter  and  employment,  the 
other  that  she  must  earn  and  be  ready  to  pay  back 
all  the  money  Mark  had  loaned  her  —  sometime. 
And  these  decided  her. 

"  I'll  go  with  you,  sir,"  she  answered. 

At  B and  the  transition  from  train  to  train, 

poor,  half-scared  Myrtle  obtained  her  first  contact 
with  the  pushing,  excited,  and  usually  stupid  crowd 
who  justle  one  another  at  such  a  terminal  depot. 
Here  also  she  looked  anxiously  around  with  the  vain 


INTO    A   SELFISH    WOBLD  183 

hope  that  she  might  see  the  one  face  now  of  interest 
to  her.  It  failed,  of  course,  and  quite  grateful  for 
so  much  protection  she  felt  her  new  employer  grasp 
her  arm  and  lead  her  through  this  half -crazed  throng, 
bumping  and  elbowing  each  other,  to  another  train. 
Once  she  was  seated  in  this  he  left  her  again  and 
soon  returned  and  handed  her  a  paper  bag  contain- 
ing two  sandwiches  and  an  orange. 

"  We  have  to  eat  ez  we  go  in  this  world  some- 
times," he  now  asserted,  cheerfully,  taking  the  seat 
in  front  of  her  where  he  had  placed  his  satchel,  then 
thrusting  a  brawny  hand  into  another  paper  bag  he 
held,  he  drew  forth  two  big  doughnuts,  a  sandwich 
and  some  cheese,  placed  them  on  a  newspaper  in  his 
lap  and  began  munching. 

And  that  act  and  thought  of  her,  and  this  off- 
hand, picnic  sort  of  a  meal,  did  more  to  restore  Myr- 
tle's courage  and  win  confidence  in  this  farmerish 
landlord  than  all  he  had  said  before. 

And  now,  as  they  drew  out  of  the  city  limits,  and 
began  to  trundle  along  through  the  country  once 
more,  he  began  a  cautious  questioning  again.  Kot 
direct  at  first,  for  he  was  a  thorough  Yankee,  but  by 
a  circuitous  route,  as  it  were,  with  queries  regarding 
how  much  she  had  travelled  and  what  points  she  had 
visited. 

"  Ye  hain't  ben  'round  much  hev  ye,"  he  said  after 


184  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

a  few  negative  answers  from  Myrtle,  "  so  travellin' 
must  seem  excitin'  ?  'Scuse  me,  Miss  Stone,  I  don't 
mean  to  be  pryin'  into  what  don't  consarn  me,  but 
ez  we  Ve  kinder  jined  fortins,  ez  the  say  in'  goes, 
how  was  it  ye  come  to  be  startin'  fer  nowhar,  not 
knowin'  whar  ye  was  goin'  to  stop  ?  " 

And  then  Myrtle  showed  the  good  sense  and  cour- 
age now  rapidly  coming  to  her. 

"  I  was  running  away  from  my  home,"  she  ad- 
mitted frankly,  "  but  not  from  my  parents  for  I 
haven't  any.  They  are  dead.  I  don't  want  to  be 
found  out  either  or  tell  where  I  come  from  or  who 
brought  me  up.  It  was  some  one  who  hated  me  and 
that  was  cause  enough  for  my  running  away." 

No  prevarication  or  evasion.  Just  a  simple  asser- 
tion of  the  facts  and  refusal  to  admit  who  she  was 
or  where  she  came  from.  A  firm  closing  of  the 
door  to  further  and  annoying  questions. 

"  Wai,"  rejoined  her  inquisitive  employer,  recog- 
nizing this  fact  and  smiling,  "  you're  all  right,  young 
lady,  and  you've  got  hoss  sense  'n'  spunk  too.  I 
like  ye  for  it.  The  man  who  ketches  you  will  git 
a  wife  who  won't  blab  his  secrets  'n'  spend  her  time 
peddlin'  gossip.  I'll  never  ax  ye  'nother  question 
'bout  yer  past  but  if  ever  ye  want  advice  come  to  me ! 
Let's  shake,"  and  he  extended  his  hand. 


INTO    A   SELFISH    WOBLD  185 

And  so  the  runaway  girl  made  another  friend  who 
was  destined  to  help  her  start  in  her  new  life. 

But  a  half-homesickness  for  the  sea  and  her  dear 
little  playhouse  now  came  as  she  sped  inland  so  rap- 
idly. How  far  she  was  to  go  she  had  no  idea.  Only 
that  it  was  away  from  the  sea  hour  after  hour  with 
mountains  rising  to  view,  nearing,  and  then  being 
left  behind.  It  was  all  new  scenery  to  her  and  im- 
posing, yet  she  sighed  for  one  more  glimpse  of  the 
dear  old  ocean  in  spite  of  the  hard,  unloved  life  she 
had  had  beside  it.  The  memories  of  her  flower 
garden  and  the  playhouse  returned.  How  her  smil- 
ing posies  must  be  now  withered,  and  somehow,  just 
then,  came  an  intense  longing  for  the  sound  of  the 
waves  once  again  and  the  sea  gulls  she  so  often  fed. 
But  deeper  than  all  these  heart-hungers  came  an- 
other regret,  that  perhaps  she,  by  this  hasty  flight, 
had  closed  the  door  and  lost  the  chance  of  ever  again 
meeting  the  one  man  now  valued  most  by  her.  Had 
she  stayed  at  Folly  Island,  though  hated  and  abused 
as  she  was,  he  might  —  he  surely  would  have  come 
there  once  more.  Almost,  even  now,  she  felt  as  if 
she  must  turn  back  and  return  to  that  unhappy  life 
to  await  him.  It  meant  harsh,  insulting  words, 
curses  surely,  whippings  possibly,  but  now  as  the 
homesick  feeling  and  love-longing  grew  upon  her, 


186  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

these  seemed  trifles  by  comparison.  Her  employer 
now  was  fast  asleep  in  his  seat  across  the  aisle,  there 
was  not  a  friendly  face  among  the  few  in  the  car, 
she  could  see  the  sun  was  almost  setting  and  still 
they  kept  trundling  along  through  woodsy  stretches, 
past  meadows,  tilled  fields  with  halts  at  stations  and 
starts  again,  until  it  was  quite  dark  and  poor,  heart- 
hungry  Myrtle,  felt  that  she  was  lost  in  a  great 
world.  Then  her  employer  roused  up,  spoke  to  her 
kindly,  said  "  Here  we  be,"  a  stop  came,  he  grasped 
her  bag,  led  the  way  out,  and  almost  lifted  her  into 
a  big  covered  stage  coach.  She  was  his  property, 
she  now  felt,  in  a  way ;  her  only  consolation  was  that 
she  could  trust  him,  and  so  she  accepted  her  fate 
without  question.  Another  hour  or  more  of  uphill 
crawling  and  downhill  swaying  through  the  night 
and  darkness,  then  the  twinkling  lights  of  a  village, 
a  halt  before  a  long  two-story  house  with  double 
piazzas  running  its  entire  length  and  Myrtle  was 
led  into  her  new  asylum,  The  Barker  House  of  Con- 
way  Hollow,  shown  to  a  small  attic-room  overlooking 
a  stable,  by  a  tall,  thin  woman  who  eyed  her  curi- 
ously, almost  f  rowningly,  said :  "  Thar's  supper 
waitin'  ye  in  the  dinin'  room,"  and  departed  with- 
out one  other  word  of  interest  or  consolation. 

And  so  Myrtle's  new  life  began. 

How  many  vexations  it  was  like  to  contain  and 


INTO    A    SELFISH    WORLD  187 

what  they  were  to  spring  from  may  be  gleaned  from 
an  observation  this  Mrs.  Barker  made  to  her  hus- 
band later  on. 

"  John  Barker,"  she  demanded  in  an  acidulated 
voice,  "  where  did  you  find  that  girl  and  what  did 
you  fetch  her  here  for?  She'll  have  every  man-jack 
in  the  house  after  her  in  a  week,  'n'  even  taggin'  her 
into  the  kitchen !  " 

"  Don't  ye  worry,  Abigail,  don't  ye  worry,"  re- 
sponded her  liege  lord  complacently  stroking  his 
chin-whisker.  "  A  purty  table  gal'll  make  tough 
meat  seem  tender  to  the  boarders,  an'  that  un's  got 
hoss  sense,  she  has." 

"  Well,  she's  got  you  strung  already,"  was  the  tart 
answer,  "  but  where  did  you  find  her  ?  " 

"  'Twas  luck,  jest  a  case  o'  bull  luck,"  he  assented, 
"  she  was  runnin'  away  from  home  'n'  I  picked  her 
up  on  a  train." 

It  was  a  foolish  admission,  as  John  Barker  soon 
discovered. 

"  An'  so  you're  pickin'  up  gals  on  trains,  be  ye," 
his  wife  rejoined  sharply,  "  its  scandlus,  I  say,  an' 
no  respect'ble  gal  will  'low  it,  not  fer  a  minute. 
This  un  ain't,  I  know  by  her  eyes,  they're  that  fetch- 
in'.  Wall-eyes,  I  call  'em,  'n'  she'll  work  'em  on 
every  man  same  ez  she  did  on  you  John  Barker !  I 
don't  want  her  in  the  house !  " 


188  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  Oh,  she's  all  right  Abigail,  don't  worry,"  re- 
sponded John,  consolingly.  "  And  don't  suspicion 
her  fust  go-off,  either.  Give  her  a  show,  we  need 
her,  'n'  if  she  gits  flirty  we'll  bounce  her  then." 

But  Mrs.  Barker,  who  like  all  homely  women  was 
naturally  suspicious  of  handsome  girls,  was  not  con- 
vinced that  this  one  was  all  right  and  watched  her 
accordingly  from  that  time  onward.  Neither  did 
poor  Myrtle  appear  again  that  night  for,  wearied  as 
never  before  by  ten  hours  of  unbroken  journeying, 
dizzy  from  the  swaying  coach  and  scared  withal  she 
crept  into  her  narrow  bed  and  cried  from  almost 
hopeless  loneliness.  Somehow  she  felt  that  Mark 
was  now  lost  to  her  forever. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  MYSTERIOUS   MESSAGE 

MARK  MASON  from  youth  up  had  thought  mainly 
of  business  and  not  only  earning  a  livelihood,  but 
beyond  that,  obtaining  a  competence  and  amassing 
enough  to  travel  and  enjoy  leisure.  A  wife  and 
home  had  not  so  far  been  a  part  of  his  plans,  partly 
because  it  would  necessitate  an  admission  of  his  own 
hazy  parentage,  and  partly  from  the  fear  that  it 
would  bar  him  from  the  all-over-the-globe  pilgrimage 
he  meant  later  on  to  enjoy. 

And  then,  presto,  a  lonely  and  distressed  damsel 
with  fetching  eyes  and  the  kinship  of  a  similar  misty 
origin  had  upset  all  his  plans  and  serenity.  His 
first  act  on  reaching  the  city  was  to  interview  the 
postmaster,  explain  his  situation,  and  obtain  that  of- 
ficial's consent  to  a  question-asking  supervision  over 
all  who  inquired  for  letters  addressed  to  Mark 
Mason.  This  done  and  being  a  wise  business  man 
he  next  inserted  advertisements  in  the  three  best 
daily  papers  offering  one  hundred  dollars  reward  to 
the  first  person  who  informed  him  of  the  where- 

189 


190  MYKTLB   BALDWIN 

about  of  a  young  lady  (fully  described)  and  calling 
herself  Myrtle  Baldwin  or  Iva  Stone.  Keplies  to 
be  addressed  to  Box  — . 

A  copy  of  this  he  also  had  mailed  to  each  paper 
published  within  a  general  radius  of  two  hundred 
miles  from  Sandy  Bay  with  request  to  insert  three 
times  and  send  bills  to  him. 

"  That  will  locate  her,  certain  sure,"  he  said  to 
himself  complacently  when  this  was  done,  and  then 
he  went  about  his  business  fully  believing  it  would. 
But  one  week,  then  two  passed,  and  all  he  received 
was  the  bills  for  this  advertising,  and  then  he  began 
to  despair.  In  the  meantime  he  had  kept  tabs  on 
the  two  clerks  alternating  at  the  general  delivery 
window  of  the  post  office,  previously  presenting  each 
with  a  box  of  cigars  to  stimulate  their  memory,  but 
no  letter  for  a  Mark  Mason  had  been  so  far  received 
by  them  or  called  for.  So  far  as  he  could  learn  up 
to  this  point,  his  Folly  Island  fisher  maid  had  drop- 
ped out  of  existence. 

And  then  one  evening  while  finishing  his  cigar 
and  watching  the  crowd  entering  a  suburban  and 
open  air  theatre,  who  should  pass  in  but  his  erstwhile 
friend  Frank  and  with  him  a  buxom  and  rather 
loudly  attired  young  lady.  The  story  of  Lucinda 
Lee  and  her  departure  from  Sandy  Bay  (told  him 
by  Barney  on  his  last  visit  there)  now  recurred  to 


A   MYSTERIOUS   MESSAGE  191 

Mark  and  with  it  a  sudden  desire  to  learn  from 
Frank  whom  he  saw  and  what  happened  at  Folly 
Island  after  he  —  Mark  —  had  left  the  yacht.  He 
had  no  wish  to  meet  or  be  questioned  by  this  young 
woman  —  assuming  she  might  be  Lucinda  —  so  to 
obviate  that  he  scribbled  a  request  on  his  card, 
pointed  Frank  out  to  an  usher  and  sent  the  card 
in  by  him.  It  brought  Frank  outside  the  enclosing 
rail  in  short  order  and  the  two  shook  hands  as  if 
good  friends. 

"  Well,  old  man,"  exclaimed  Frank  in  his  off- 
hand manner,  "  how  have  you  been  since  you  shook 
us  so  suddenly  at  Sandy  Bay?  Grinding  away  at 
money-making,  I  suppose?  Why  don't  you  take  a 
summer  off  once  in  a  while  and  spend  some  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  enjoy  the  grind  as  you  call  it,  just  as 
well,"  returned  the  more  sedate  Mark.  "  How 
much  longer  did  you  stay  around  Folly  Island  after 
I  left?" 

"A  couple  of  days,  three  I  think,"  responded 
Frank,  his  eyes  twinkling  with  the  chance  he  now 
saw  to  "  jolly  "  Mark.  "  And  we  had  a  lot  of  fun 
with  all  the  girls  there,  yours  included.  Took  'em 
out  sailing  and  filled  'em  full  of  wine,  a  regular 
lark." 

"  Yes,  I  presume  so,  and  let  you  tell  it,"  returned 
Mark  sarcastically,  watching  Frank's  face.  "  I'll 


192  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

bet  there  was  one  there  you  didn't  take  sailing,  how- 
ever." 

"  Oh,  ho,  so  you  own  up,  old  man !  "  laughed 
Frank.  "  Well  I  suspected  you  of  being  with  her 
those  days  you  cut  us  —  now  I  know  it.  No,  we 
didn't,"  he  added  more  soberly.  "  You  are  the  only 
one  she  smiled  upon.  I  tried  to  get  her  started  but 
the  old  pirate  on  the  island  interfered.  And  say, 
I'd  rather  tackle  a  buzz-saw  than  that  Cap'n  Jud 
again!  Why  he  has  a  temper  like  a  vitriol-and-red- 
pepper  cocktail,  he  has ;  a  regular,  rip-roaring,  blood- 
thirsty savage !  " 

"  So  I  judged  the  day  I  got  the  lobsters,"  re- 
sponded Mark  now  satisfied  on  one  point. 

"  But  we  did  have  fun  with  some  of  the  Sandy 
Bay  maidens  fair,"  continued  Frank,  who  like  all 
his  ilk  couldn't  refrain  from  exploiting  his  con- 
quests. "  One  of  them,  the  belle  of  the  town,  is  now 
sojourning  here.  I  got  her  a  position  in  a  cloak 
store,"  and  he  winked  at  Mark  and  tipped  his  head 
toward  the  auditorium. 

"  Yes,  I  heard  her  coming  and  later  saw  her  go 
in  with  you,"  answered  Mark  in  slow,  incisive  tone 
and  resolving  to  get  square  with  Frank.  "  Of 
course  your  family  will  see  that  she  is  properly  in- 
troduced to  their  set  this  fall  and  become  the  social 


A    MYSTERIOUS    MESSAGE  193 

lion,  eh  ?  You  can  and  will  also  take  her  to  all  the 
dog-fights  and  scrapping-matches,  I  assume  ?  " 

"  Ain't  you  funny  ?  "  retorted  Frank.  "  Funny 
as  a  little  red  wagon  with  a  green  horse  painted  on 
the  seat.  And,  by  the  way,  that  reminds  me  some 
one  is  advertising  for  information  regarding  a  Myr- 
tle Baldwin.  Wasn't  that  that  Folly  Island  girl's 
name  ? " 

"  You  can  search  me,"  responded  Mark  in  the 
vernacular  and  well-assumed  innocence.  "  I've  for- 
gotten what  her  name  was."  And  then  half  sorry 
he  had  called  his  friend  out  Mark  bade  him  return 
to  his  companion  and  turned  away.  But  he  didn't 
leave  the  grounds  by  any  means.  Instead  he  took  a 
rear  seat  inside  the  rail,  awaited  the  close  of  the 
performance,  hurried  out  ahead  of  the  crowd  to  a 
vantage  point  to  watch  for  and  obtain  a  good  look 
at  this  Sandy  Bay  girl  he  now  knew  Frank  had  lured, 
to  the  city.  Neither  was  she  at  all  bad-looking, 
quite  the  contrary,  in  fact,  a  good,  plump  young 
woman  of  perhaps  twenty-two,  with  open,  smiling 
face,  yet  carrying  her  head  with  a  certain  unmis- 
takable bravado  and  her  raiment,  as  Mark  had  sar- 
castically insinuated,  could  easily  be  heard.  He  had 
accomplished  his  purpose  however.  He  wanted  to 
be  sure  to  know  this  "  Cindy  "  by  sight,  and  later  on 


194  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

locate  her  for  a  good  and  sufficient  reason  and  one 
entirely  different  from  Frank's  interest  in  her. 

The  incident  also  served  to  open  his  eyes  to  an- 
other danger.  He  knew  the  ways  of  life  and  the 
city.  He  was  world-wise  to  all  its  pitfalls,  dangers, 
and  allurements  ever  in  wait  or  spread  before  young 
and  handsome  girls.  He  knew  how  many  wolves 
in  broadcloth  and  like  this  fellow  Frank,  stood  ready 
to  flatter,  beguile,  cajole,  spend  money  and  lure 
countless  girls  to  their  ruin.  In  this  city  it  was  al- 
most a  vocation  among  such  as  he.  In  smaller  cities 
and  factory  towns  it  was  only  a  trifle  less  so.  And 
what  of  this  fisher-maid,  handsome  enough  to  at- 
tract all  men's  eyes,  utterly  innocent  of  the  world's 
ways;  what  if  she  should  fall  in  with  some  other 
Frank  Goodnow  and  be  thus  flattered  and  led  into 
the  gilded  path  of  vice  ?  She  was  alone,  without  a 
protector  or  adviser,  and  was  so  guileless  that  she 
was  ready  to  accept  his  protection  and  guidance  off- 
hand, as  it  were?  But  then  there  was  one  redeem- 
ing feature;  her  life  on  Folly  Island  had  rendered 
her  so  desperate  that  she  was  ready  to  grasp  the 
first  hand  extended  as  she  had.  Then  in  this  con- 
nection, also,  Mark  now  recalled  the  story  of  her 
mother  and  its  similarity  to  the  girl's  own.  How 
she  had  been  driven  from  home  by  this  same  man's 
brutality  and  abuse,  and  its  outcome.  Truly,  as 


A    MYSTERIOUS    MESSAGE  195 

Mark  now  realized,  life  and  human  conduct  are  a 
mingling  of  many  currents,  some  black,  some  crim- 
son, and  some  pure  and  translucent. 

It  had  now  been  three  weeks  and  four  days,  as 
Mark  counted  since  he  returned  to  the  city,  and  dur- 
ing all  that  time  no  letter  from  this  girl  had  come, 
no  response  to  his  advertisements,  or  tidings  from 
any  source.  He  had  also  during  all  this  time 
watched  the  current  of  moving  faces  in  the  city 
streets  morning,  noon  and  night.  Had  stood  beside 
the  employees'  entrances  to  all  the  big  stores  scan- 
ning the  outgoing  rush  at  close  of  business,  played 
spotter  in  front  of  the  few  theatres  now  open,  and 
all  with  a  vain  and  foolish  hope  that  he  might  see 
amid  these  countless  faces,  the  one  he  longed  for 
above  all.  But,  no,  and  he  began  to  grow  despondent 
and  believe  he  should  never  again  see  it. 

And  then  one  morning,  glancing  over  a  paper  he 
caught  the  name  of  Folly  Island  heading  a  list  of 
mortgages  for  sale.  A  most  explicit  description  of 
this  attractive  piece  of  property  was  also  given;  its 
number  of  acres,  and  how  several  springs  of  pure 
water  bubbled  from  amid  its  diverse  and  romantic 
area;  one  forming  a  natural  lakelet  in  which  grew 
beautiful  water  lilies;  its  secure  harbor  for  yachts; 
its  opportunities  for  fishing;  golf  playing,  and  per- 
petual sea  winds.  In  fact,  just  the  location  for  a 


196  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

summer  resort  or  the  erection  of  scores  of  shore  cot- 
tages. 

And  then  Mark  smiled  at  the  vivid  imagination 
and  excellent  descriptive  abilities  of  this  real  estate 
agent.  He  made  haste  to  call  on  him,  also,  found 
the  quitclaim  deed  had  been  duly  recorded  at  Sandy 
Bay  ten  years  previous,  fenced  and  talked  evasively 
for  an  hour,  came  around  two  days  later,  made  a 
flat  offer  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  for  both  note  and 
deed  signed  by  Judson  Baldwin,  witnessed  by  Amos 
Orton,  and  got  them. 

Then  he  walked  out  feeling  almost  like  the  farmer 
who  found  he  had  a  vicious  marauding  bear  safe  in 
a  trap. 

To  go  at  once  to  Folly  Island  and  "  have  it  out " 
with  Cap'n  Jud  in  revenge  for  his  insults  was  the 
first  thought  now  occurring  to  Mark,  but  that,  or 
the  spirit  of  revenge,  soon  passed  away.  He  had  lit- 
tle of  that  desire  in  him,  only  the  will  to  insist  upon 
justice.  He  alsd  realized  that  to  foreclose  the  mort- 
gage, as  he  now  could,  and  drive  Cap'n  Jud  off  the 
island,  would  not  find  Myrtle  or  redress  her  wrongs. 

And  there  was  this  poor  old  crone,  Aunt  Perth ! 

But  Folly  Island  and  its  heart-interest  now  seemed 
calling  him,  some  clue,  some  news  from  the  runaway 
girl  might  also  have  reached  Sandy  Bay,  and  then 
there  was  another  matter  also  troubling  Mark.  He 


A    MYSTEBIOTJS    MESSAGE  197 

was  not  a  religious  enthusiast,  he  had  little  of  the 
desire  to  go  about  spreading  the  gospel  or  to  try  to 
convert  sinners.  He  believed  in  compensation,  that 
all  evil  deeds  wrought  their  own  punishment  sooner 
or  later,  and  that  exhortation  was  largely  a  waste  of 
time.  On  the  other  hand,  he  believed  much  good 
might  be  accomplished  by  a  quiet,  diplomatic  method 
and  directing  the  feet  of  stumbling  sinners  into  the 
paths  of  good  conduct  and  good  sense.  He  now 
saw  the  direction  in  which  those  of  this  Lucinda  Lee 
were  pointed,  that  there  was  but  one  outcome  for 
her  life  and  that,  to  drift  downward  into  the  slums 
of  vice,  and  somehow,  the  fact  that  she  had  once 
been  Myrtle's  friend  in  the  face  of  her  situation, 
now  became  a  factor  with  him.  He  might  not  be 
able  to  save  her  from  the  scarlet  army  whose  ranks 
she  was  likely  soon  to  join,  and  yet,  it  would  do  no 
harm  to  try,  or  to  see  what  could  be  done  for  her  in 
Sandy  Bay.  But  September  had  come,  the  calls  of 
new  fall  business  kept  him  occupied  a  week  longer, 
and  then  one  day,  or  as  usual  each  morning,  he 
glanced  into  the  post  office  box  hired  in  connection 
with  his  ads  and  saw  that  it  held  a  letter. 

And  never  during  those  seven  long  weeks  of  wait- 
ing and  suspense,  had  his  heart  given  such  a  leap ! 

With  trembling  fingers  he  fumbled  his  bunch  of 
keys  and  opened  the  box.  The  letter  addressed  to 


198  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

the  box  number  only  contained  a  clipping  of  his  ad 
and  this  mysterious  message: 


"  The  writer  of  this  recently  noticed  the  enclosed 
advertisement  and  wishes  to  know  if  the  girl  calling 
herself  Myrtle  Baldwin  or  Iva  Stone  was  brought 
up  on  Folly  Island  in  the  home  of  a  Captain  Judson 
Baldwin.  If  so  kindly  notify  Mrs.  M.  B.  U.,  Box 
62,  Glendale,  K  H." 

Three  times  Mark  perused  this  blind,  yet  aston- 
ishing missive,  noticed  its  easy  flowing  chirography, 
evidently  penned  by  a  lady  of  education,  examined 
the  postmark,  saw  that  it  was  Pittsfield,  K.  H.,  and 
then  gave  a  low  whistle. 

"  Good  Lord,"  he  exclaimed,  as  an  intuition  came 
to  him,  "  can  it  be  possible  this  is  Myrtle's  mother  ? 
It  must  be  from  her  or  some  one  who  either  knows 
her  or  now  has  her  in  charge." 

And  then  he  read  the  letter  once  more.  It  was 
ten  minutes  ere  he  recovered  himself  and  would  not 
have  done  so  then,  had  not  two  hurrying  men 
bumped  against  him  in  this  crowded  post  office  cor- 
ridor. Then  he  locked  his  box,  hastened  to  his 
office,  and  answered  the  letter  explicitly. 

The  next  morning  he  packed  a  small  suit-case  and 
took  an  early  train  that  would  land  him  at  the  Sandy 
Bay  station  that  afternoon. 


CHAPTEE  XVII 

ON  FOLLY  ISLAND 

A  MAJT  may  be  a  brute,  almost,  with  scarcely  any 
conscience  at  all  or  what  has  been  rendered  im- 
pervious by  his  adamantine  egotism,  and  yet  amen- 
able to  fear.  Such  a  man  was  Cap'n  Jud. 

And  now  from  the  very  day  Mark  scared  him  with 
brave,  scornful  words,  a  new,  uncanny,  weird,  and 
grewsome  fear  became  his  portion.  Like  all  sailors 
he  was  more  or  less  superstitious  and  believed  in  all 
the  signs,  warnings,  omens,  and  sea  monsters  that 
sailors  believe  in.  He  also  now  supposed  this  waif 
whom  he  had  so  hated  and  abused  all  her  life  had 
ended  that  life  in  the  eddying,  swirling  current 
sweeping  under  the  Folly  Island  bridge.  His  first 
visit  to  Sandy  Bay  after  Mark's  scourging  also  en- 
trenched him  in  this  belief,  for  Amos  Orton,  Bar- 
ney, and  others  who  despised  him,  had  not  hesitated 
to  make  known  their  opinion  of  his  conduct  and 
even  assure  him  of  what  he  deserved.  Ordinarily 
he  would  have  resented  this  in  his  surly  bull-dog 
manner,  now  he  cowed,  cringed,  and  made  only  weak 

199 


200  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

and  evasive  answers.  He  also  kept  away  from 
Sandy  Bay  after  that  one  visit,  and  when  he  needed 
anything  from  a  store  rowed  four  miles  across  a 
bay  to  Dark  Harbor  for  it.  His  life  on  Folly  Island 
had  always  been  a  half-hermit  one,  now  it  became 
more  so,  and  he  went  about  his  fishing  and  fish-cur- 
ing, a  silent,  morose,  and  even  more  surly  man. 
Often  for  days  at  a  time  he  would  not  speak  to  the 
one  other  human  being  there,  his  aged  and  pitiful 
sister,  he  began  to  miss  Myrtle  also  in  spite  of  his 
hatred  of  her,  and  slowly  but  surely  to  realize  how 
brutal  his  treatment  had  been.  With  this  also  came 
the  recollection  of  her  usefulness,  her  patient  en- 
durance of  his  sneers  even  while  she  worked  for  him. 
She  had  been  his  slave  and  so  considered,  but  now 
he  began  to  miss  the  slave.  Then,  too,  during  these 
lonely  solitary  days  far  out  upon  the  ocean  where 
he  set  his  trawls,  or  about  the  wharf,  his  first  years 
here,  his  treatment  of  his  own  child  and  her  abrupt 
departure  now  returned  to  haunt  him.  All  in  all, 
Cap'n  Jud,  the  surly,  imperious,  brutal  old  sea-dog, 
was  reaping  the  tares  he  had  sown  and  feeling  the 
Divine  compensation  and  retribution  as  sure  to  come 
as  the  rising  tide.  He  had  scorned  and  scoffed  at 
any  Supreme  Power  all  his  life.  He  had  defied  and 
denied  the  existence  of  a  God  to  himself,  and  to  all 
others.  But  Eternal  Justice  was  overtaking  him, 


201 

the  mills  of  God  were  grinding  slow  but  sure, 
and  even  now  he  could  hear  their  wheels  rumbling. 

And  then  one  night  returning  late  from  Dark 
Harbor,  whose  store  he  had  visited  and  walking  up 
the  narrow  wharf,  there  in  the  fish-house  door  he 
saw  a  white,  ghostly  form!  Only  for  an  instant, 
just  its  faint  spectral  outlines  in  the  always  open 
door;  then  it  vanished,  and  he,  the  valiant  Cap'n 
Jud  who  feared  neither  God  nor  man,  leaped  from 
the  wharf  and  ran  for  the  house  as  if  pursued  by 
demons. 

Conscience,  maybe  ?  Superstition,  surely,  and  his 
life-long  belief  in  omens  and  sign-warnings.  But 
whatever  it  was  that  he  saw  mattered  not.  That  it 
was  the  spirit  form  of  this  waif  and  slave  he  now 
believed,  and  from  that  moment  his  troubles  of  mind 
increased.  He  began  to  be  afraid  of  night  and  dark- 
ness and  never  to  pass  that  fish-house  door  without  a 
sense  of  fear.  His  sleep  grew  troubled,  the  ever 
present  moaning  of  the  ocean  more  ominous,  the 
white  upleap  of  waves  on  Folly  Island  would  now 
and  then  assume  spectral  human  shape,  and  all  about 
and  at  all  times  he  expected  again  to  behold  a  faint, 
white,  soon-vanishing  form.  It  had  been  his  custom 
now  and  then  to  use  the  tidal  current  through  the 
passage  between  mainland  and  island  in  going  to  or 
returning  from  lobster  pot  pulling,  now  that  became 


202  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

impossible  and  the  bridge  a  positively  haunted  spot. 

How  he  was  faring,  or  the  ghostly  mania  now  pur- 
suing him,  was  unknown  at  Sandy  Bay  and  even  his 
sister  was  unaware  of  it,  so  when  Mark  reached  that 
village  late  one  afternoon,  all  he  could  learn  was 
that  Cap'n  Jud  had  been  there  but  once  during  the 
previous  six  weeks,  that  he  had  then  been  told  what 
Sandy  Bay  people  thought  of  him,  and  naturally 
kept  away. 

"  Begorra,"  said  the  plain-spoken  Barney  that 
evening  in  Orton's  store  to  Mark,  "  but  the  ould 
shark  got  a  pace  o'  my  mind  he  won't  soon  forget. 
Shure  I  towld  him  the  wourld  'ud  be  well  rid  o'  him, 
that  all  the  paypul  here  'ud  dance  round  wid  joy 
to  see  him  treadin'  air  at  a  rope's  ind  and  I'd  loike 
to  be  one  to  pull  him  up.  An'  jist  to  make  him 
slape  wid  one  eye  open,  I  towld  him  we  was  all 
coomin'  down  to  visit  him  some  night  'n'  prisint  him 
wid  a  new  suit  o'  tar  'n'  feathers  ez  a  token  iv  es- 
tame." 

More  of  this  or  similar  comment  was  forthcom- 
ing, it  seemed  to  Mark  that  poor  Myrtle's  sorrows 
and  abuse  were  being  duly  avenged  but  to  what  fur- 
ther and  greater  extent  he  now  had  no  inkling.  And 
then  for  reasons  of  his  own  Mark  now  decided  to 
make  a  partial  disclosure  of  his  own  opinions  and 
errand  there. 


ON    FOIXY   ISLAND  203 

"  I've  never  quite  believed  this  poor  girl  drowned 
herself,"  he  said  to  Amos  later  on  and  out  of  hear- 
ing from  the  rest  in  the  store.  "  Firstly,  she  had  no 
real  reason  to  do  so,  for  I  had  promised  to  aid  her, 
had  assured  her  I  would  find  a  new  home  for  her, 
and  while  I  did  not  propose  to  her  then,  I  did  so 
in  a  letter  which  Cap'n  Jud  read  and  destroyed. 

"  Now,  while  I  do  not  want  a  word  of  this  even 
hinted  to  anyone,  much  less  reach  Cap'n  Jud,  I  still 
believe  the  poor  girl  ran  away  as  she,  I  know,  had 
planned  to  do.  I  have  also  set  about  finding  her, 
have  inserted  an  ad.  in  every  paper  within  two  hun- 
dred miles  of  here,  shall  repeat  it  again,  and  keep 
up  the  search  for  years  if  need  be." 

"  It's  curis  none  on  us  here  saw  that  notice," 
Amos  interrupted  looking  relieved.  "  I  git  one 
paper  every  day,  thar's  lots  come  in  an'  read  it,  two 
or  three  weekly  papers  is  taken  here,  yet  nobody  read 
what  you  put  in." 

And  then  Mark  felt  astonished,  for  he  had  been 
almost  positive  some  one  in  Sandy  Bay  would  have 
noticed  his  advertisement. 

"  Did  you  know  this  girl's  mother  well,"  he  now 
asked,  "  and  was  she  fairly  educated  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,  she  must  'a'  bin,"  returned  Amos  with 
sudden  interest,  "  fer  she  was  bright  ez  a  button.  I 
cal'late  she  got  it  'fore  she  came  here,  too,  fer  she 


20$  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

was  'bout  sixteen,  near  ez  I  kin  rec'lect,  when  Cap'n 
Jud  fetched  her  to  the  island.  Bad  case,  too,  her 
runnin'  away  ez  she  did  'n'  the  baby  bein'  sent  here 
or  fetched.  I  tell  ye  Cap'n  Jud's  got  a  lot  to  answer 
fer,  he  has." 

"  Now  tell  me  about  this  Lee  girl  and  her  esca- 
pade," continued  Mark.  "  Was  she  driven  to  it  or 
did  she  go  of  her  own  free  will  ? " 

"  Oh,  Cindy,  she  jest  lit  out  from  pure  cussedness 
'n'  to  git  new  togs,  I  cal'late.  She  was  allus  vain 
o'  her  looks,  never  was  much  o'  a  friend  o'  work, 
wanted  to  live  like  a  lady  'n'  all  sich  'n'  then  — 
wal,  I  s'pose  her  dad,  drunken  cuss,  he  wan't  much 
hold-back  on  her.  She  has  a  sister,  though,  Molly, 
good  grit  'n'  true  blue.  She'll  never  throw  herself 
away  as  Cindy  did,"  and  so  the  gossip  and  scandal 
of  Sandy  Bay  ran  out  of  this  Amos  Orton  as  the 
acrid  sap  of  a  hemlock  tree  would  exude.  And 
Mark  now  felt  that  all  attempt  to  rescue  this  Lu- 
cinda  Lee  from  her  downward  career  and  love  of  fine 
feathers  would  be  time  wasted. 

The  next  morning  Mark  started  for  Folly  Island 
and  the  nearer  to  it  he  got  the  less  he  liked  his  er- 
rand there.  He  had  the  mortgage  safe  in  his  pocket, 
he  knew  it  would  never  be  paid  and  that  to  fore- 
close meant  to  injure  a  helpless  old  woman,  and  by 
the  time  he  reached  the  bridge  the  "  bear-in-trap  " 


ON    FOLLY    ISLAND  205 

feeling  had  all  vanished.  Here  also  he  paused  to 
look  at  the  swirling  current  below  and  collect  his 
verbal  ammunition.  Somehow,  too,  he  now  began 
to  recall  and  live  over  his  last  meeting  here  with 
Myrtle,  what  she  said,  and  how  she  looked  and 
acted.  He  could  almost  see  her,  too,  her  perfect 
oval  face  upraised  to  the  moonlight  and  eyes  tender 
with  unspoken  love  and  yearning  for  sympathy,  care, 
and  protection.  Then  he  began  to  reproach  him- 
self for  not  returning  here  boldly  from  Good  Will 
Farm  and  following  his  friend  Hinckley's  advice. 
Had  he  done  so,  all  this  trouble  and  pain  might  have 
been  avoided.  But  the  "  might  have  been's  "  of  life 
were  not  kin  to  Mark.  To  push  on  and  do  were 
more  to  his  liking  and  he  soon  turned  away  and  fol- 
lowed the  road  to  the  wharf. 

As  it  chanced,  too,  Cap'n  Jud  was  in  the  fish 
house  when  Mark  drew  near  and  emerged  just  in 
time  to  confront  him.  And  now  Mark  was  witness 
to  an  almost  pitiful  spectacle.  He  had  expected 
Cap'n  Jud  would  glare  at  him  defiantly  as  before 
and  answer  his  first  words  with  scorn  and  a  curse. 
Instead  he  gave  a  start  of  sudden  fear,  his  wrinkled 
face  took  on  an  ashen  hue  and  he  stepped  back 
quickly. 

"  Well,  Cap'n  Jud,  you  see  I'm  back  again  in 
spite  of  the  insulting  way  you  ordered  me  off,"  Mark 


206  MTETLE  BALDWIN 

now  asserted,  with  an  almost  scornful  smile.  But 
no  answer  to  this  declaration  came  from  the  watch- 
ing, cowering  man. 

"  I've  come/'  continued  Mark  in  slow  even  tone, 
as  if  he  was  master  here,  "  to  look  the  island  over 
again,  look  you  over,  too,"  he  added,  almost  inso- 
lently, "  and  see  how  conscience  and  the  driving  of 
your  grandchild  to  her  death  was  affecting  you.  How 
is  it,  Cap'n  Jud?  Are  you  real  happy  these  days? 
Do  you  realize  what  a  despicable,  contemptible  brute 
you  are?" 

It  was  a  vicious  speech,  a  direct  insult,  but  Mark 
felt  like  giving  it. 

"  I  ain't  to  blame  fer  't,  her  doin'  what  she  did," 
whined  Cap'n  Jud  so  cowed  that  he  would  not  even 
resent  Mark's  insolent  words.  "  I  allus  took  keer 
o'  her  the  best  I  cud,  'n'  no  thanks  from  nobody." 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course  you  took  care  of  her  tenderly, 
lovingly,  with  cuss-words  and  a  horse-whip,"  re- 
sponded Mark  with  rising  scorn,  "  and  all  the  Sandy 
Bay  folks  know  it  and  are  praising  you.  Some  of 
them  are  even  starting  a  popular  movement  to  buy 
you  a  new  suit  of  tar  and  feathers  as  a  token  of  their 
admiration.  And  a  few  want  to  hang  you  for  the 
good  of  society  and  your  soul  —  that  is,  allowing 
you  have  one,  which  I  doubt." 


ON   FOLLY    ISLAND  207 

But  no  answer  came  from  the  now  bowed  down 
and  cringing  man  within  the  fish-house.  He  merely 
crouched  lower  and  finally  sank  upon  the  wet  and 
filthy  floor  like  a  whipped  and  despicable  cur. 

"You  must  be  proud  of  yourself,  Cap'n  Jud," 
Mark  continued  after  a  pause  and  meaning  to  give 
this  brute  his  deserts.  "  First  you  made  every 
sailor  on  your  vessel  hate  and  curse  you,  you  bump- 
tious old  shark,  then  you  drove  your  own  wife  to 
an  early  grave  by  the  same  evil  temper,  came  to 
Sandy  Bay  and  made  everyone  there  despise  you 
as  well,  and  so  abused  your  daughter  she  too  ran 
away.  And  to  crown  all  your  past  contemptible  life 
you  now  so  abuse  this  helpless  grandchild  that  she, 
too,  prefers  death  to  you!  I  don't  wonder  Sandy 
Bay  wants  to  hang  you!  The  world  would  be  well 
rid  of  you,  you  cowardly  brute !  " 

And  still  no  answer  came  from  this  cringing 
craven  cur! 

"  I've  another  errand  here,"  added  Mark  less 
scathingly,  and  after  pausing  for  breath,  "  and  that 
is  to  collect  a  mortgage  note  for  one  thousand  dollars 
with  ten  years  interest,  I  now  hold.  Are  you  ready 
to  pay  it,  Cap'n  Jud  ?  " 

Then  the  cowering  man  gave  another  start  and 
looked  up. 


208  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

"  No,  no,  I  can't  pay  it  —  never  can,"  he  moaned, 
"  ye  kin  take  the  island,  though,  V  I'll  get  off,  but 
I  can't  pay  it." 

But  Mark  had  said  all  he  meant  to,  and  more  too ; 
had  thrust  the  knife  of  scorn  deep  into  the  heart  of 
this  shark,  and  all  he  cared  for  now  was  to  twist  it 
once  for  good  measure. 

"  No,  Cap'n  Jud,  you  needn't  leave  this  island," 
he  said  slowly  and  with  calmness  now.  "  Neither 
shall  I  foreclose  the  mortgage  as  I  now  could  and 
kick  you  off  the  island  as  you  deserve.  You  can 
stay  here,  take  care  of  your  aged  sister,  the  only 
friend  you've  got,  and  hate  yourself  for  being  what 
you  are.  You  took  the  letter  I  sent  to  the  girl  I 
loved  and  meant  to  marry,  you  cursed  and  whipped 
her  for  that,  even,  and  now  having  robbed  me  of 
her  as  you  have,  you  can  stay  here  so  long  as  you 
live  and  think  how  you  are  abhorred  by  God  and 
man  alike.  That  is  all  I  have  to  say,  sir,  good- 
day,"  and  Mark  turned  and  left  him. 

He  had  meant  to  call  and  talk  with  this  Aunt 
Perth,  to  try  to  learn  more  of  the  last  scene  between 
Myrtle  and  Cap'n  Jud,  but  somehow  now  he  was  in 
no  mood  for  that.  Rather  did  he  feel  to  visit  Myr- 
tle's garden  and  playhouse  once  more  and  give  way 
to  his  feelings  like  a  foolish  schoolgirl.  But  he  did 
not,  for  such  a  giving-way  would  not  help  him  now, 


ON   FOLLY   ISLAND  209 

he  was  blue  and  disconsolate  enough  as  it  was,  in  a 
hopeless  mood  as  well,  and  to  almost  hate  Folly  Is- 
land. He  merely  glanced  at  the  old  brown  house 
and  down  the  island  once  and  strode  on  toward  the 
bridge.  Here  he  paused  and  faced  about  for  a  part- 
ing look  at  the  wharf  and  fish-house. 

Within  it,  and  still  squat  on  the  floor  sat  Cap'n 
Jud. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

"  FOOLISH  ILLUSION  " 

WHEN  Mark  once  more  reached  Sandy  Bay  and 
the  four-hour  wait  there  until  Barney  was  ready  to 
start  on  his  afternoon  trip  to  the  train  it  seemed 
as  if  time  moved  slower  than  ever  before  in  his  life. 
Somehow,  too,  this  village  and  these  people  had 
grown  distasteful  to  him  as  well.  There  was  no 
reason  for  it;  he  had  been  sheltered  here  two  nights 
with  evening  and  morning  meals  for  the  modest  sum 
of  seventy-five  cents  charge  on  each  occasion,  three 
people,  at  least,  had  shown  him  sincere  sympathy  in 
his  troubles,  many  others  had  expressed  it  by  looks 
and  yet  he  wanted  to  be  well  away  from  them  all 
as  soon  as  possible.  But  Barney  drove  around  to 
the  store  finally,  the  two  hours  of  time  and  ten  miles 
of  road  to  the  station  were  endured,  and  Mark  was 
positively  relieved  when  once  on  board  a  train  again 
and  moving  towards  civilization.  And  then  a  glad- 
some surprise  came  to  him  banishing  Cap'n  Jud, 
Folly  Island  and  Sandy  Bay  from  his  mind  on  the 
instant,  for  when  the  conductor  had  taken  his  fare 

210 


"  FOOLISH    ILLUSION  "  211 

he  paused  and  looked  at  Mark  curiously.  "  Are  you 
the  man  who  was  looking  for  a  runaway  girl  along 
this  line  a  month  or  so  ago  ? "  he  queried. 

"  I  am,"  responded  Mark,  eagerly.  "  Why,  what 
is  it,  have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  maybe  yes,  and  maybe  no,"  the  official 
returned  slowly.  "  Only  the  day  after  I  saw  you 
or  two  days  after,  a  girl  with  eyes  V  figger  like  you 
described  got  aboard  at  the  next  station  without  a 
ticket,  said  she  didn't  know  where  she  wanted  to  go, 

finally  'lowed  she'd  go  to  B ,  fished  a  roll  o' 

bills  out  of  her  bosom  'n'  paid  me  with  a  ten  dollar 
one.  It  all  struck  me  so  curious  I  thought  I'd  men- 
tion it.  May  be  she's  the  one  you  was  looking  for." 

"  Good  Lord,  yes,  that  was  the  one !  "  Mark  almost 
shouted,  jumping  up.  "  Oh  it  must  have  been !  I'll 
get  off  here  I  guess,"  he  added  as  the  train  began 
to  slow  down,  and  grasping  his  suit  case,  also  for- 
getting the  fare  he  had  paid  to  B ,  he  was  on  the 

platform  and  off  the  train  before  it  stopped. 

And  then  another  thought  entered  his  upset  brain. 
"  Where  did  she  get  off,"  he  asked  rushing  up  to 
the  conductor  now  on  the  platform. 

"  At  B ,"  he  answered,  said  "  All  aboard !  " 

and  away  the  train  went. 

And  then  Mark  drew  a  long  breath,  began  to  col- 
lect his  thoughts  and  looked  around.  Two  old 


212  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

ladies  and  a  young  girl  were  just  leaving  the  plat- 
form on  one  side,  a  sleek-looking  drummer  with  sam- 
ple case  and  bag  was  hurrying  away  in  opposite 
direction,  while  the  haggage  master  was  trundling  his 
van  hearing  one  rope-bound  trunk  toward  the  depot. 
Mark  now  accosted  this  official. 

"  What  town  is  this  ?  "  he  almost  demanded. 

"  Burrville,"  was  the  blunt  answer. 

"  Did  you,"  Mark  continued  more  respectfully, 
"  notice  a  young  lady,  fine  figure,  big  black  eyes, 
plain  blue  dress,  wearing  a  man's  hat  get  aboard  a 
train  here  five  or  six  weeks  ago  ?  " 

Then  the  official  gave  a  chuckling  laugh,  "  Say, 
mister,"  he  said,  "  did  you  see  a  red  moon  last  night 
with  blue  whiskers,  or  a  cow  with  wings?  Go  off 
'n'  lay  down  in  the  shade  'n'  take  a  nap." 

And  then  Mark  laughed  also. 

"  Beg  pardon,"  he  said  humbly,  "  but  I'm  not 
drunk,  only  excited,"  and  then  he  explained  himself 
fully.  No  help  in  solving  the  riddle  was  obtained 
from  this  man,  however,  and  Mark  next  accosted  the 
station  master  inside  with  better  luck. 

"  I  saw  the  gal  you're  lookin'  for,"  he  responded, 
"  'n'  know  all  about  her.  She  was  a  runaway  gal 
from  some'ers,  Anson  Cony  found  her  all  tuckered 
out  'longside  the  track  'n'  took  her  home  V  sent  her 


"  FOOLISH   ILLUSION  "  213 

off  lookin'  slick.  He  won't  tell  whar  she  come  from, 
though." 

And  then  Mark  felt  like  shouting  for  very  joy. 
He  was  next  told  where  this  Anson  Cony  lived,  al- 
most ran  the  entire  mile,  made  himself  and  his  er- 
rand known  in  a  few  words,  and  then  those  two  aged 
people  fairly  beamed,  for  all  the  world,  old  or  young, 
loves  a  lover. 

"  I  knowed  some  feller  was  at  the  bottom  o'  all 
her  troubles,"  Farmer  Cony  ejaculated,  after  Mark 
had  told  his  story.  "  But  she  never  let  on  a  word 
'bout  it.  Just  writ  a  little  note  for  ye  'n'  handed  it 
to  mother  'fore  she  left.  She  was  all  broke  up  at 
the  depot,  couldn't  speak  she  felt  so  bad,  'n',  by 
hokey,  my  eyes  got  sorter  watery  when  she  went,  fer 
we'd  both  took  to  her,  we  had.  Mother,"  he  added, 
"  get  Mr.  Mason  that  note  out  o*  the  Bible,"  and 
"  Mother "  hastened  to  the  family  Bible  and  pro- 
duced it. 

Mark  in  his  busy  business  life  had  written  many 
letters  and  received  many.  Some  from  women  also 
but  none  containing  one  iota  of  real  heart-interest. 
But  this  one,  the  first  written  message  ever  received 
from  a  maid  he  now  loved  and  yet  might  never  see 
again,  seemed  too  sacred  to  open  even  before  these 
old  people  —  her  good  friends.  He  did,  however, 
and  this  is  what  he  read: 


214  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

"ME.  MASON,  KIND  SIR  :  — 

"  I  never  got  the  letter  you  wrote  but  Grandfather 
did.  He  was  awful  mad  and  meant  to  whip  me 
without  my  clothes  on.  I  run  away  that  night  and 
felt  awful  bad  but  I  done  just  as  you  told  me.  I 
lost  your  card  and  thought  you  may  look  for  me  and 
come  here.  I  don't  know  where  to  go  but  I  shall 
never  never  forget  you  or  the  money.  These  people 
have  been  very  kind  to  me  but  I  don't  dare  stay  here. 
I  am  so  blue  and  lonesome  to  see  you. 
"  Good-Bye,  Kind  Sir, 

"  From  IVA  STONE." 

Somehow  as  he  read  this  missive,  its  lapses  in 
grammar  and  cramped  schoolgirl  writing  never  oc- 
curred to  him.  Only  its  direct,  pitiful  message,  left 
here  six  weeks  ago. 

"She  left  her  old  shoes  here,  too,"  "Mother" 
asserted,  now  bringing  them  from  a  closet.  "  An' 
she  must  'a'  ben  treated  shameful.  They're  men's 
shoes.  She  told  us  all  'bout  herself,  too,  'n'  the  way 
she  was  abused." 

And  that  evening,  a  unique  one  in  Mark's  ex- 
periences, was  almost  entirely  devoted  to  poor  Myr- 
tle's story  told  by  these  kindly  people  and  not  until 
its  close  did  Mark  find  opportunity  to  explain  who 
he  was  and  how  he  came  to  know  this  girl.  "  Now," 


"Mother,    get   Mr.    Mason   that   note   out   o'   the   Bible." 
Page  213. 


"  FOOLISH   ILLUSION  "  215 

he  said  after  so  much  was  related,  "  the  question  is, 
where  has  she  gone,  for  find  her  I  must  if  it  takes  a 
lifetime.  That  girl,  my  good  friends,  is  very  dear 
to  me  now,  I  assure  you." 

"  I  know  it,  V  we  don't  blame  ye,"  asserted 
Farmer  Cony,  smiling,  "  fer  mother  'n'  me  took  to 
her  amazin'  an'  did  all  we  could  to  keep  her.  I 
hain't  no  idee  whar  she  headed  fer ;  she  didn't  know 
herself  I  cal'late,  jest  went  on  meanin'  to  hide  her- 
self, I  figger,  'n'  find  work  some'ers.  Then  thar  was 
'nother  reason  fer  't.  This  Cap'n  Jud  who  brung 
her  up  she  'lowed,  she  cal'lated  'ud  be  after  her  to 
fetch  her  back.  I'm  sartjn  'twas  fear  o'  him  that 
made  her  quit  us  fer  we  offered  her  a  home  an' 
stiddy  wages." 

And  so  this  conclusion,  repeated  many  times  and 
in  various  ways  by  honest  farmer  Cony,  now  closed 
the  door  of  hope  for  Mark  and  made  him  realize  that 
he  must  continue  his  blind  pursuit  of  his  sweetheart. 

"  Let  us  know  what  luck  ye  have,"  the  farmer  said 
to  Mark  next  morning  after  conveying  him  to  the 
depot,  "  'n'  if  ye  find  the  gal  ez  I  hope  ye  may,  ef 
ye  do,  jist  come  this  way  on  your  weddin'  trip  'n' 
stop  'n'  see  us.  We'll  be  powerful  glad  to  have  ye." 
Then  the  train  came  along,  the  two  men  shook  hands 
cordially,  Mark  jumped  aboard,  and  was  once  more 
face  to  face  with  the  same  old  problem,  where  to  find 


216  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

the  girl  he  loved.  But  a  little  consolation  was  now 
soothing  his  vexed  spirit,  he  knew  she  was  safely 
away  from  Folly  Island,  and  also  clad  in  respectable 
clothing,  had  at  least  fifty  dollars  with  her,  and  sense 
and  courage  enough  to  take  care  of  herself.  Could 
he  have  known  also  how  firmly,  even  in  the  face  of 
a  desperate  situation,  she  had  resisted  this  Cindy's 
proposals  he  would  have  been  even  better  satisfied. 
But  where  to  turn  and  what  to  do  next  was  the  ques- 
tion, and  in  this  extremity  he  now  hied  himself  to 
Good  Will  Farm  and  "  Father "  Hinckley  once 
more.  His  story  and  actions  up  to  this  time  were 
soon  told,  the  mysterious  letter  from  the  Glendale 
lady  read  and  then  Mr.  Hinckley  spoke. 

"  I  should  first  obtain  an  interview  with  this  Mrs. 
M.  B.  U.,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  "  for  she  is 
either  the  girl's  mother  or  knows  about  her.  It  is 
possible,  also,  that  the  girl  may  be  with  her  now  and 
they  have  taken  this  way  of  communicating  with 
you.  I  should  also  renew  my  ads  in  all  towns  along 

the  railroads  diverging  from  B ,  say  for  one 

hundred  miles  or  so.  That  girl's  sole  idea  seemed 
to  be  to  find  work,  which  is  creditable ;  she  will  make 
inqueries  of  some  one  and  land  in  a  factory  town. 
Even  now  she  may  be  tending  loom  in  some  cotton 
mill." 

"  But  my  ads  haven't  done  much  good  so  far,"  in- 


"  FOOLISH    ILLUSION  "  217 

terposed  Mark.  "  I  made  sure  the  Sandy  Bay  peo- 
ple would  catch  one  of  them  but  not  a  soul  did." 

"  Well,  this  is  a  very  busy  world  and  few  find 
time  to  read  ads  unless  in  need  of  something." 

"  But  mine  was  so  unusual,  and  a  hundred  dol- 
lars in  it  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  also  a  six-line  of  fine  print,  probably 
sandwiched  in  between  patent-medicine  and  marvel- 
lous-soap ads.  A  needle  in  a  haymow  with  nobody 
looking  for  it.  It  pricked  one  person,  however," 
Mr.  Hinckley  added  tersely,  "  Mrs.  M.  B.  U." 

"  The  one  thing  I  can't  understand,  however," 
continued  Mark,  "  is  why  Myrtle  never  wrote  me 
in  the  city.  She  had  forethought  enough  to  leave  a 
note  for  me  with  that  farmer  who  took  her  in,  and 
yet  there  wasn't  one  chance  in  a  million  I'd  ever  get 
it?" 

"  True  enough,  my  son,  but  you  are  dealing  with 
a  young  girl's  mind  totally  unused  to  the  world's 
ways  and  postal  service.  To  her  your  city  was  some 
vague  point  so  far  away  a  letter  would  never  reach 
it,  or  she  might  have  written  to  it  and  omitted  the 
State.  There  are  others  also  of  the  same  name. 
Let  me  see  her  note  please,"  and  Mark  produced  it. 

"  That  letter,"  Mr.  Hinckley  asserted  after  perus- 
ing it,  "  was  written  by  a  girl  still  scared  half  out 
of  her  wits,  also  hopeless  and  never  expecting  to  see 


218  MYRTLE   BALD  WIN 

you,  her  good  friend,  again.  An  almost  pitiful 
good-bye,  as  it  were." 

"  And  I  guess  it  is,"  rejoined  Mark  now  lapsing 
into  discouragement.  "  I  begin  to  think  I've  lost 
her  for  good  and  all." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  not  by  any  means !  "  asserted 
the  more  optimistic  one.  "  You  couldn't  even  lose 
yourself  in  this  small  corner  of  a  small  world  if  you 
tried  and  she  isn't  trying  to  hide  herself.  It  may 
take  time,  a  year,  maybe,  but  find  her  you  will  if 
you  keep  on  trying,"  and  once  more  Mark  felt  grate- 
ful that  kind  fate  had  made  this  genial  and  opti- 
mistic man  his  friend.  He  bade  good-bye  to  him 
with  more  hope  also  the  next  morning,  was  whirled 
away  by  train  and  in  due  time  reached  the  city. 
His  first  steps  were  to  the  post  office  but  no  expected 
answer  from  this  mysterious  lady  had  arrived  or  a 
letter  for  himself  at  general  delivery.  And  now 
ensued  a  few  days  of  really  painful  suspense.  He 
began  to  visit  the  post  office  three  and  four  times 
daily,  again  to  watch  the  evening  outrush  of  sales- 
girls from  the  big  stores  and  the  current  of  faces 
along  the  streets.  He  grew  forgetful  of  his  business 
interests,  neglected  to  answer  important  letters,  kept 
away  from  his  club  for  fear  of  meeting  Frank  whom 
he  now  began  to  despise,  and  when  one  evening  he 
chanced  to  see  that  "  Injun  "  escorting  the  buxom 


219 

Cindy  now  resplendent  in  a  new  fall  costume  of 
vivid  hue,  Mark  felt  that  life  was  a  hopeless  pursuit 
of  an  ignis  fatuus,  and  honest  love  a  sham  and  pain- 
giving  illusion.  So  far  it  had  only  spoiled  his  peace 
of  mind,  his  appetite  and  sleep.  Better  by  far,  he 
now  thought,  to  forget  one's  self-respect  and  pride, 
allow  the  animal  instinct  to  rule  as  Frank  did,  and 
consider  all  womankind  mere  creatures  to  amuse 
man.  But  he  could  not  do  it.  Somehow  and  some- 
way a  strain  of  chivalry  and  honest  wish  to  be  a 
benefit  and  blessing  to  some  woman  had  crept  into 
his  makeup.  None  worthy  of  much  of  it  had  so  far 
come  in  touch  with  his  life  until  this  fisher-maid 
had;  and  she,  after  four  days  of  sudden  and  hectic 
interest  had  vanished  from  it  To  find  her  and 
make  her  his  own  to  protect  and  love  he  very  much 
wanted ;  that  wish  had  been  growing  day  by  day  for 
seven  weeks  now;  was  still  upsetting  the  current  of 
his  life  and  thoughts,  and  put  it  away  he  could  not. 

One,  two,  three,  four  more  days  of  this  "  fool 
illusion  "  as  he  now  called  it  passed,  and  then  he 
received  an  answer  to  his  letter. 

It  was  brief  and  to  the  point. 
* 

"  I  wish  to  meet  you,  sir,"  the  mysterious  lady 
wrote,  "  and  will  do  so  at  twelve  o'clock  exactly,  one 
week  from  the  date  of  this  letter  and  in  the  post 


220  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

office  at  Concord.     You  will  know  me  by  my  carry- 
ing a  black-bordered  handkerchief  in  my  left  hand. 
I  may  have  something  of  vital  interest  to  tell  you. 
Answer.  M.  B.  U." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

CONWAY  HOLLOW 

THE  village  of  Conway  Hollow,  eight  miles  from 
a  railroad,  owed  its  origin  to  a  peculiar  land  forma- 
tion, an  oval  vale  perhaps  a  mile  wide  at  its  broadest 
point  between  two  low  ranges  of  mountains.  These 
narrowings  formed  a  wedge-shaped  gorge  or  canyon 
above  the  village  with  sides  of  precipitous  cliff 
through  which  ran  a  sizable  stream.  Two  roads 
reached  this  fertle  valley,  one  from  the  railroad  be- 
yond the  left  side,  the  other  following  the  defile  be- 
low. A  flume  from  a  small  dam  in  the  upper  gorge 
furnished  power  for  a  saw-mill,  box,  and  wooden- 
ware  shop ;  below  these  Conway  Hollow  had  grouped 
itself  on  either  side  of  a  wide  maple-shaded  street 
at  the  upper  end  of  which  stood  the  Barker  House. 
A  bank,  two  brick  blocks,  three  churches  and  several 
stores  were  distinctive  features  of  this  prosperous 
village  lit  by  electric  lights  and  having  telephone 
service;  farmhouses  were  scattered  over  the  plain 
below;  while  a  few  nestling  along  the  sloping  hill- 

221 


222  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

sides  with  tilled  fields  and  meadows  fringed  by 
maples  and  sugar  orchards  between,  gave  a  blaze  of 
scarlet  each  autumn.  But  Conway  Hollow's  chief 
claim  to  distinction  lay  in  its  picturesque  canyon 
above,  always  cool  and  shadowy  in  summer.  One 
side,  facing  north,  was  a  perpendicular  rock  wall 
moss-coated  and  dripping  water,  at  the  base  of  which 
a  roadway  followed  up  and  alongside  for  a  mile  and 
thence  over  the  mountain  range  to  a  town  beyond. 
This,  so  alluring  in  hot  months,  invited  tourists  and 
lovers  alike,  the  brook  added  music,  and  to  com- 
plete the  charm,  just  across  this  cascaded  stream, 
and  for  a  mile  was  a  wide  sloping  bank,  thick-grown 
with  white  and  pink  blooming  laurel.  Trout  en- 
thusiasts found  this  stream  attractive,  a  lakelet  at 
the  head  of  the  gorge  also  afforded  speckled  interest 
for  them,  sugaring-off  parties  near  the  hillside  farm- 
houses in  spring  were  episodes  of  sweet  interest,  the 
Barker  House  lured  summer  sojourners  as  the  stores 
inevitably  did  the  omnipresent  commercial  trav- 
ellers. These,  after  the  manner  of  their  class,  came 
with  persistent  regularity,  hustled  for  orders,  made 
goo-goo  eyes  at  the  Barker  House  table  girls  or  any 
that  would  look  at  them,  smoked  numerous  cigars 
with  an  I-am-rich  sang  froid,  played  pitch  and  poker 
with  one  another  evenings,  boasted  of  their  big 
orders  between  times,  and  deported  themselves  as  if 


COtfWAY    HOLLOW  223 

the  welfare  and  happiness  of  Conway  Hollow  de- 
pended upon  their  comings  and  goings.  And  here, 
to  the  Barker  House  with  its  few  summer  boarders 
doing  their  best  to  amuse  themselves,  a  dozen  regular 
ones  —  business  men  with  no  thought  for  aught  else 
—  and  the  influx  of  drummers  ready  to  flirt  early, 
late,  and  any  time;  Miss  Iva  Stone,  as  Myrtle  now 
called  herself,  was  duly  installed  as  table  girl.  Her 
duties,  simple  enough,  were  soon  learned,  her  two  as- 
sistants of  Irish  birth  first  eyed  her  contemptu- 
ously, then  began  to  pity  the  shy,  innocent  and  will- 
ing-to-do-anything  girl  —  and  let  her  do  it  —  or  all 
they  could  safely  shirk. 

She  bought  for  herself  material  and  made  two  sim- 
ple calico  dresses,  also  white  aprons,  spent  all  her 
service  hours  from  six  a.  m.  until  eight  p.  m.  in 
dining  room  and  kitchen;  sweeping,  dusting,  polish- 
ing, setting  tables,  clearing  them,  never  complaining, 
seldom  speaking  to  any  one,  never  once  noticing  the 
drummers'  smirking  glances  or  answering  one  of 
their  needless  comments.  She  also  soon  discovered 
the  gorge,  asked  permission,  and  each  afternoon  se- 
cured a  two-hour  chance  to  visit  it.  Then  big 
bunches  of  laurel  began  to  deck  the  tables,  wreaths 
of  ground  pine  and  red  berries  to  depend  from  the 
hanging  lamps,  and  in  ten  days  Katie  and  Korah 
began  to  realize  that  Miss  Stone,  as  all  called  her 


224  MYBTLB  BALDWIN 

now,  had  less  of  the  shirk  element,  better  taste,  and 
more  perseverance  than  they  ever  dreamed. 

"  That  gal,  Miss  Stone,  's  a  treasure,"  Landlord 
Barker  announced  to  his  angular  better-half  one 
morning  —  he  had  tried  "  Iva  "  but  now  called  her 
"  Miss  Stone."  "  She's  allus  doin'  what  she  ought, 
ye  never  ketch  her  flirtin'  with  the  drummers,  it's 
allus  t  sir '  to  me  'n'  '  ma'am '  to  you  I  notice,  'n' 
look  at  the  way  she  fixes  up  the  dinin'  room,  makes 
it  blossom  all  the  time  ?  " 

"  Wai,  she's  doin'  all  right,"  responded  his  help- 
mate, none  too  well  pleased  by  this  praise,  "  but  I'm 
a  watchin'  her  jest  the  same.  I  never  knew  gals 
with  eyes  like  her'n  but  what  turned  out  bad.  An' 
she  never  says  nothin'  'bout  herself,  neither,  whar 
she  come  from  'n'  who  she  was,  'n'  that  don't  look 
right.  I  tried  to  quiz  her  once  but  'twan't  no  use, 
she  wouldn't  say  nothin',  jist  shet  me  up  by  turnin' 
away." 

It  was  evident  poor  Myrtle's  fixed  intention  of 
never  disclosing  her  past  had  made  one  enemy.  And 
firm  she  was,  too,  in  this  intent  and  all  due  to  the 
fear  of  her  grandfather.  He  had  been  her  owner, 
taskmaster,  and  keeper.  He  had  ordered  at  will, 
cursed  her  when  he  choose,  whipped  her  now  and 
then,  and  the  years  of  such  training,  such  slavery, 
almost,  were  not  soon  obliterated.  She  had  escaped 


225 

him  by  one  desperate  break,  he  might  and  could  pur- 
sue her  and  bring  her  back,  he  had  the  right,  she 
believed;  and  so  any  admission  of  her  identity  to 
these  strangers  was  only  opening  a  door  for  that, 
or  giving  a  chance  that  they  would  inform  him 
who  she  was.  Neither  did  she  dare  lisp  a  word 
about  Mark.  He  had,  in  an  almost  stern  tone, 
cautioned  her  that  he  must  never  be  known  to  have 
aided  her,  and  while  she  had  confessed  to  those 
farmer  friends  who  she  was,  not  one  word  about 
Mark  passed  her  lips  —  only  the  pitiful  letter  left 
for  him.  He  was  her  God,  practically;  she  would 
have  laid  down  her  life  for  him,  almost,  had  he 
asked  it,  but  betray  his  trust,  never,  if  she  was 
beaten  black  and  blue  to  force  it!  And  so  she  par- 
ried every  word  of  inquiry  regarding  her  past,  but 
kept  her  eyes  wide  open  to  do  her  new  master's 
bidding,  eagerly  and  faithfully. 

But  she  was  not  happy.  Shelter  she  now  had, 
work  to  do,  but  her  peculiar,  almost  dumb  reticence, 
had  cut  her  off  from  the  eight  or  ten  people  who 
composed  the  Barker  House  retinue.  The  summer 
boarders,  old  ladies  and  children  mostly,  with  the 
few  business  men  from  the  village,  soon  saw  that 
Miss  Stone  would  not  talk  much  and  left  her  alone, 
and  even  the  landlord  himself,  a  genial,  kindly,  if 
inquisitive  Yankee,  found  her  unapproachable,  al- 


226  MTBTLB  BALDWIN 

most  sulky.  At  first,  on  the  train,  he  saw  she  was 
scared  and  pitied  her  for  it,  now  he  began  to  think 
some  dark  secret  burdened  her  mind,  or  some  grave 
scandal  darkened  her  past. 

Then,  too,  as  the  days  and  weeks  sped  by  it 
seemed  to  her  that  each  one  made  it  more  certain 
Mark  would  never  find  her.  How  he  was  to  do  so 
was  also  a  vague  problem,  that  he  would  try  it, 
a  more  uncertain  question.  He  had  said  he  wished 
to  help  her,  had  done  so,  first  insisting  on  secrecy, 
but  whether  his  interest  went  beyond  that,  she  could 
not  guess.  Then  a  latent,  inborn,  maidenly  reserve 
now  began  to  assert  itself.  Love  as  she  had  read 
in  her  books  was  always  first  expressed  by  man. 
He  had  not  even  hinted  it,  maybe  never  felt  its 
least  impulse,  had  just  been  sorry  for  her  out  of  the 
goodness  of  his  heart  and  that  was  all.  Most  likely 
he  would  soon  forget  her  as  well.  He  was  a  busy 
man  in  a  big,  busy  city  as  he  had  told  her; 
she  a  poor,  ignorant  ill-clad  fisher-girl  he  would 
never  even  look  at  elsewhere  and  why  should 
she  expect  him  to  think  of  her  or  try  to  find  her? 
Then  another  and  worse  humiliation  recurred  to  her 
—  her  birth.  She  knew  he  must  have  learned  about 
it  at  Sandy  Bay  with  all  its  shame,  and  that  became 
a  bugaboo,  a  bar  sinister  as  it  was  and  is  to  all  who 
realize  it.  At  first,  or  soon  after  arriving  here, 


CON  WAY    HOLLOW  22  Y 

she  had  thought  to  write  him.  His  office  address 
had  escaped  her  but  it  was  possible  that  a  letter 
sent  to  his  city  might  reach  him  —  it  could  be  tried, 
anyway  —  she  even  wrote  one,  read  it  over,  and, 
blushing  at  its  implied  confession  of  love,  tore  it  up. 
She  tried  another  a  few  evenings  later,  written  the 
same  way  with  pencil  in  her  room,  and  this  time 
her  heart  got  the  better  of  her  modesty  and  she 
poured  out  her  sorrows,  her  hopes,  and  love-long- 
ings, as  never  before,  then  she  read  this  one,  red- 
faced  and  trembling,  tore  it  to  tiny  shreds  —  and 
burst  into  tears. 

And  then  that  money,  the  one  hundred  dollars, 
began  to  torture  her.  Mark  had  said  it  was  a  loan 
she  was  to  pay  back  sometime,  but  how?  She  had 
spent  all  but  thirty-one  dollars  of  it,  the  rest  she 
must  save  out  of  her  wages  and  now  she  went  about 
it.  He  might  also  follow  and  find  her;  she  didn't 
expect  it,  scarce  hope  even  and  yet  he  might  and 
she  wanted  to  be  ready  to  say  "  Here  it  is,  sir,"  and 
hand  it  to  him.  In  this  as  in  his  firm  request 
not  to  betray  him  she  was  loyal  to  him  and  his 
wishes. 

But  a  few  rays  of  sunshine  soon  began  to  find 
their  way  into  her  new  life.  Norah,  whose  warm 
Irish  heart  never  failed  to  respond  to  others'  troubles, 
was  not  long  in  reaching  the  conclusion  that  thia 


228  MYBTLB  BALDWIN 

black-eyed  girl's  past  life  had  been  a  sad  one,  that 
some  dark  mystery  shadowed  it,  and  before  a  week 
had  passed  an  incipient  friendship  began  to  link 
the  two.  It  started  from  Myrtle's  almost  eager 
willingness  to  assume  Norah's  turn  in  the  late  hour 
dining  room  service  allotted  to  each  in  rotation, 
thus  letting  her  escape  and  have  the  evening  out 
with  her  beau,  the  hostler,  and  be  it  said  to  that 
blue-eyed,  red-haired  maid's  credit,  she  never  once 
tried  to  pry  into  Myrtle's  past. 

"  Ye  have  some  throuble  ye're  kapin'  to  yerself, 
I'm  thinkin',"  she  said  to  Myrtle  at  the  outset,  "  an' 
I'm  sorry.  But  its  not  me  way  to  be  axin'  ques- 
tions. If  its  a  felly  make  up  yer  moind  the  best 
o'  thim  ain't  worth  wipin'  yer  ould  shoes  on  an' 
ferget  him;  if  it  ain't,  thin  its  nobody's  business," 
and  so  the  subject  was  dropped.  Norah,  more  prac- 
tical and  world-wise  and  seeing  how  innocent,  how 
"  green  "  Myrtle  was,  soon  took  her  in  hand  and 
acquainted  her  with  all  the  details  of  service  in 
the  Barker  establishment,  what  was  expected  of 
servants,  and  also  all  gossip.  How  Katie  had  two 
beaux  "  on  the  sthring,"  how  the  landlady  "  wid  a 
temper  like  red  pepper,  shure,"  was  jealous  of  Mr. 
Barker  and  made  life  a  burden  for  him,  how 
"  cheeky  "  the  "  dhrummers  "  were,  and  how  she 
cajoled  them  out  of  dimes  and  quarters. 


CON  WAY    HOLLOW  229 

"  Och,  but  they  do  be  marks,  thim  fresh  chaps," 
she  said  scornfully  of  them,  "  an'  they  think  they're 
so  smart  wid  their  foine  clothes  an'  the  sthyle  o' 
thim !  All  ye  got  to  do  is  jist  smoile  once  an'  they 
think  they've  mashed  ye.  Begorra  I  got  one  o'  them 
so  silly  lasht  wake  he  shtuck  a  silver  dollar  under 
his  coffee  cup  bekase  I  towld  him  me  name  an'  said 
I'd  answer  a  letther.  Write  him  a  letther  indade! 
Divil  a  wan  'ud  he  git  if  he  wrote  me  a  dozen  1  " 

There  were  other  and  more  valuable  ways  in  which 
this  keen-witted  daughter  of  Erin  now  aided  Myrtle. 
She  went  shopping  with  her,  helped  her  to  buy  shoes, 
stockings,  gloves,  another  hat,  and  true  to  her  na- 
tionality, beat  down  the  storekeepers  as  much  as 
possible  for  each  article.  She  assisted  Myrtle  many 
an  hour  in  the  cutting,  fitting,  and  sewing  of  a  calico 
dress,  extra  aprons  and  the  like,  and,  most  surprising 
of  all,  after  Myrtle  was  more  properly  clad,  per- 
suaded her  to  go  with  her  to  Sunday  morning  six 
o'clock  mass!  This  was  the  first  time  Myrtle  had 
ever  entered  a  house  of  worship.  And  a  most  im- 
pressive event  it  was,  too,  for  the  dimly  lighted 
sanctuary  with  its  stained  windows  disclosing  the 
•faces  and  figures  of  saints  and  angels,  the  severe 
Gothic  architecture,  the  black-and-gold-draped  altar, 
with  life-size  painting  of  the  Madonna  back  of  it, 
the  golden-piped  organ,  the  array  of  burning  tapers, 


230  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

the  black-robed  priests,  solemn  chanting  of  Latin 
ritual  and  more  solemn  music,  one  and  all  awed 
Myrtle  beyond  expression.  She  had  sat  for  many 
an  hour  on  the  outer  point  of  Folly  Island  watching 
the  great  billows  rolling  in  from  the  boundless  ocean 
to  break  with  a  booming  roar  at  her  feet,  had  felt 
all  the  mystic  grandeur  of  this  scene,  all  its  im- 
pressive solemnity,  and  here,  hundreds  of  miles  in- 
land and  in  a  little  brown-stone  Catholic  Church  it 
was  reproduced  again !  Curiously,  too,  and  so  finely 
wrought  a  nature  had  this  island  girl,  that  humbly 
imitating  Norah  and  kneeling  with  her,  when  she 
arose  her  eyes  were  moist  with  tears  and  kept  so 
until  the  service  was  over  and  they  left  the  church. 
And  then  ISTorah's  kindly  heart  and  perfect  faith 
in  her  religion  asserted  themselves. 

"  Ah,  me  darling  it  does  me  sowl  good  to  see  yer 
wet  eyes,"  she  said  as  the  two  walked  away.  "  Whin 
we  have  throubles,  shure  thar's  no  place  to  lave  'em 
loike  the  church.  If  ye  say  the  wurrd  I'll  spake 
to  the  holy  father  an'  let  him  confess  ye,  I  think  he'd 
do  it  an'  be  glad  to,  an'  ye'd  feel  the  better  for  it." 

But  Myrtle  was  too  much  scared  at  this  new 
revelation,  this  strange  mysticism  of  solemn  cere- 
mony and  awe-inspiring  words  and  music  to  do  more 
than  answer  briefly. 

"I  thank  you,  Norah,"  she  said,  "but  I  hain't 


CONWAY    HOLLOW  231 

anything  to  confess  or  be  sorry  for.  It  was  the 
music,  so  much  like  the  ocean  waves  where  I  came 
from  that  made  me  feel  so,  and  —  and  I  ain't  very 
happy  either." 

Then  Borah's  heart  went  out  to  her  all  the  more. 

Myrtle's  eyes  were  soon  opened  to  other  features 
of  her  surroundings  as  well.  The  entirely  new, 
much  better  and  more  varied  food  served  at  the 
Barker  hostlery,  clean  white  table  linen,  strangely 
shaped  dishes,  and  so  many  of  them,  plated  table 
ware,  bright  carpets  and  pretty  curtains  in  cham- 
bers, plush-covered  chairs  in  parlor,  were  all  in  such 
contrast  to  the  wretched  poverty  of  her  childhood 
home  on  Folly  Island !  Her  work,  too,  in  compari- 
son with  the  ill-smelling  fish  she  had  to  handle  so 
much  and  the  filthy  surroundings  of  wharf  and 
fish-house,  was  almost  a  pleasure  by  contrast.  She 
could  keep  clean,  too,  had  a  better  bed  to  sleep  in, 
a  larger  room  with  mirror,  wash-stand,  two  chairs 
and  a  rocker  for  furniture.  The  double  verandas 
of  the  Barker  House,  now  screened  by  luxuriant 
vines,  were  cool  and  pleasant  to  sit  in  when  the 
chance  came,  especially  the  upper  one,  the  green-clad 
mountains  enclosing  Conway  Hollow  gave  her  a  sense 
of  security  where  she,  as  Iva  Stone,  was  safe  from 
pursuit  'from  her  hated  grandfather.  The  brook 
cascading  down  the  gorge  was  an  inspiring  friend, 


232 

the  mile-long  bank  of  laurel  sloping  upward  in  the 
ravine  never  lost  its  charm,  the  wide  meadows  in  the 
vale  below,  the  hillside  pastures  and  many  cows 
thereon,  the  village  green  and  its  double  rows  of 
enclosing  maples,  the  long  street  also  shaded,  and 
abutting  houses  white,  pretty  and  tidy,  with  flower 
or  plant  decorated  dooryards;  the  few  stores  with 
window  displays,  each  and  all  interested  and  edu- 
cated her.  There  was  a  little  brown  cobble-stone 
library  in  the  village  that  Myrtle  soon  visited  and 
from  that  time  on  every  spare  hour  and  often  un- 
til after  midnight  she  forgot  where  she  was  and 
all  troubles  in  the  pages  of  romantic  fiction.  She 
had  left  Folly  Island  ignorant  of  the  world's  ways, 
a  much-abused  drudge  to  a  morose,  brutal  man  who 
hated  her;  she  was  fast  becoming  enlightened  to 
better  things,  more  civilized  living,  more  humane 
people,  more  refinement  and,  albeit  countrified,  more 
culture. 

But  Folly  Island  still  returned  in  thought.  Her 
tiny  flower  garden,  the  lone  hid-away  playhouse,  the 
gulls  she  had  fed,  the  monotone  of  the  wide  ocean, 
that  fatal  evening  hour  when  her  grandfather,  fierce 
in  anger  and  whip  in  hand,  towered  above  her,  and 
commanded  her  to  strip  and  be  scourged  like  a 
slave;  each  and  all  returned  to  haunt  her  many 
times. 


CON  WAY    HOLLOW  233 

A  face  and  form,  too,  pursued  her!  A  genial, 
manly  face,  with  smiling  eyes,  seldom  escaped 
her  thoughts.  She  saw  him  as  he  first  turned 
his  face  towards  her  at  the  wharf,  felt  again  the 
shame  and  insult  then  meted  out  to  her,  saw  him  as 
he  surprised  her  at  the  cove,  recalled  her  sudden, 
childish  desire  to  show  him  her  flower  garden  and 
hut  and  once  again  came  the  heart-leap  of  gratitude 
for  his  interest  and  sympathy.  Then  she  recalled 
the  later  offer  of  advice  and  money  assistance,  open- 
ing a  new  door  of  hope,  and  best  of  all,  the  won- 
drous witching  hour  on  the  moonlit  bridge  when 
she  seemed  to  have  just  stepped  into  another  world, 
etherial,  glorified  and  with  a  new,  tender  friend 
to  guide  and  protect  her!  All  and  each  of  these 
episodes  and  memories  returned  again  and  again 
to  be  lived  over  with  either  pain  or  thankfulness. 
They  were  locked  fast  in  her  heart,  however,  yet 
a  part  of  her  life  even  here.  But  no  hint  of  them 
must  escape  her,  not  if  a  thousand  whips  were  up- 
raised to  bring  confession. 

But  did  he,  this  Prince  Perfect,  this  one  man 
among  a  great  world  of  men  even  think  of  her  now  \ 
Would  he  ever  find  her  and  smile  at  her  once  more  ? 
Time  and  time  again  she  asked  herself  this  question, 
and  always  with  the  same  answer,  "  No,  I  must  for- 
get him  as  he  will  surely  forget  me." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   FATAL    GIFT 

A  GIKL  of  Myrtle's  beauty  of  face  and  form  can 
never  escape  man's  eyes  and  man's  pursuit,  be  she 
ever  so  reticent,  or  go  where  she  will,  and  Myrtle 
was  no  exception.  In  fact  her  shrinking  ways,  her 
timid,  almost  fear-filled,  appealing  eyes  only  served 
to  attract  men  the  more.  They  had  caught  Mark's 
attention  and  interest  off-hand,  won  the  good  will 
of  old  farmer  Anson  Cony  in  ten  minutes,  and 
led  John  Barker  to  accost  her  as  speedily.  And 
now  in  her  new  life  and  vocation  she  still  found 
herself  pursued  and  troubled  from  this  source. 

The  few  attaches  of  the  Barker  House  were  only 
mildly  persistent,  by  them  she  soon  became  con- 
sidered as  a  table  girl  above  her  station  and  after 
one  or  two  timid  rebuffs  they  let  her  alone.  The 
male  boarders  also  tried  friendly  advances  with  the 
same  result  and  conclusion.  They  were  more  re- 
fined about  it,  however,  and  having  learned  how 
Landlord  Barker  happened  to  find  her,  concluded 
that  there  was  some  hidden  mystery  or  scandal  in 

234 


THE    FATAL.   GIFT  235 

her  past  and  sympathized  accordingly.  Had  she 
shown  the  least  intention  or  desire  to  be  familiar, 
each  of  them  would  have  welcomed  it  joyfully,  as 
it  was,  and  like  gentlemen,  they  respected  her  ap- 
parently unfortunate  situation  —  after  trying  po- 
litely to  break  into  it  —  and  abandoned  further  at- 
tempt 

But  the  ones  who  did  annoy  her  most  were  the 
score  or  more  commercial  travelers  who  came  to 
Conway  Hollow.  And  each  and  every  one  of  these 
—  the  younger  ones  especially  —  seemed  to  consider 
that  a  handsome  table  girl  could  be  and  must  be 
flattered,  or  ought  to  be,  anyway;  that  she  most 
certainly  stood  ready  to  accept  any  advances  if 
tendered  discreetly;  was  willing  to  meet  them  out- 
side after  service  hours  to  take  walks  and  be  treated 
to  candy  or  ice  cream,  and  that  such  conduct  on 
their  part  would  in  nowise  injure  a  girl's  good  name. 
In  fact  it  is  doubtful  if  many  of  these  well-garbed, 
happy-go-lucky,  assertive,  jovial,  genial,  and  usually 
generous  emissaries  of  trade,  ever  stop  to  consider 
that  a  table-girl  in  a  hotel  has  any  good  name  to 
protect!  They  have  money  a-plenty  to  spend,  none 
to  say  them  nay,  their  class  reputation  in  the  mat- 
ter, or  more  especially  that  of  those  who  are  self- 
respecting  —  and  there  are  many  —  is  never  con- 
sidered by  some,  all  these  care  for  is  their  own 


230  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

amusement,  and  as  for  the  rest  of  the  clan,  they 
can  go  hang. 

It  had  been  Myrtle's  lot  soon  after  her  arrival  at 
the  Barker  House  to  be  relegated  to  the  care  of  the 
three  tables  where  these  trade  tourists  were  always 
seated,  and  her  first  experience  with  one  of  these 
offensive  ones  must  be  related  in  full.  He  came  in 
late  to  supper,  wore  a  suit  that  would  echo  across 
Conway  Hollow,  a  last  week's  collar,  red  tie,  fres- 
coed finger  nails,  smelled  of  cigarettes,  and  had  beady 
black  eyes  and  aquiline  nose. 

"  Veil,  my  pooty  girl,"  he  said,  giving  her  a  leer- 
ing look  as  she  handed  him  the  written  bill  of  fare, 
"  vot  have  you  goot  to  eat  dis  time  ?  " 

As  the  question  was  needless  she  merely  stood, 
silently  waiting  his  orders.  "  I  vill  have  some  steak 
very  rare  und  fried  eggs  turned  ofer,"  he  said  after 
a  glance  at  the  menu  and  a  long,  lascivious  look  at 
Myrtle,  "  und  some  cold  chicken,  fried  potatoes,  und 
coffee.  Und  say,  my  tear  "  he  added  as  she  moved 
away,  "you  may  pring  me  some  griddle  cakes  and 
berries,  und  you  needn't  haf  de  coffee  turned  ofer." 

He  was  served  in  due  time  by  Myrtle,  who,  scarce 
conscious  of  what  his  glances  meant,  merely  won- 
dered what  manner  and  race  of  men  this  fellow 
belonged  to,  then  moved  away  to  attend  to  another 


THE   FATAL,   GIFT  237 

guest  two  tables  distant.  In  ten  minutes  or  more 
this  one  beckoned  to  her. 

"  I  will  haf  anoder  cup  of  coffee,"  he  half  com- 
manded and  taking  his  empty  cup  she  saw  he  had 
placed  a  silver  half  dollar  beneath  the  saucer.  She 
brought  the  coffee  but  let  the  money  remain  on  the 
table  and  started  to  walk  away. 

"  Holt  on,  my  tear,"  he  said,  "  vy  don't  you  take 
te  monish  ?  It  ish  for  you  pecause  you  ish  such  a 
schveet  girl." 

"  I  don't  care  to  take  it,  sir,"  she  answered  now 
feeling  as  if  she  had  come  upon  a  snake. 

"Veil,  I  shall  leaf  it  here  for  you,  den,"  he  re- 
turned unabashed,  "  und  say,  I  vas  fallen  in  love 
mit  you  alretty." 

But  the  "  schveet "  girl  let  the  half-dollar  alone 
in  disgust  at  the  attempt  so  to  gain  her  interest. 
Perforce  also  she  had  still  to  wait  and  serve  him,  to 
bring  him  the  griddle  cakes  and  syrup  for  them 
and  hear  his  further  insults  until  he  left  the  room. 
She  also  wanted  to  go  to  a  store  that  evening  but 
dared  not  for  fear  of  meeting  this  man.  But  he 
was  not  to  be  baffled  so  easily.  Instead  he,  the 
only  transient  guest  there  that  night,  kept  prowling 
around  the  house,  peeping  into  the  parlor  and  sit- 
ting room,  and  watching  the  upper  veranda.  It 


238  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

was  here,  also,  that  he,  later  on,  found  the  un- 
suspecting Myrtle. 

"  Veil,  dish  ish  great  luck,"  he  declared  at  once 
drawing  a  chair  and  seating  himself  near  her.  "  I 
vas  lonesome  und  a  pooty  girl  like  you  ish  vat  I 
vants.  Now  I  vish  you  would  go  mit  me  down 
street  und  let  me  puy  you  someding?  Vill  you, 
my  tear  ? " 

"  No  sir,  I  won't,"  returned  Myrtle  firmly  and 
rising.  "  I  don't  know  you  or  why  you  want  to 
buy  me  anything." 

"  Veil,  I  do,"  he  pleaded,  also  rising,  "  pecause 
I  tells  you  I  am  so  soon  in  love  mit  you,  you  vash  so 
peautiful.  I  vould  puy  you  anydings  shust  for 
vun  kiss,  my  tear,  only  vun." 

But  this  was  so  openly  said,  so  vulgar  and  dis- 
gusting in  insinuation,  that  even  innocent  Myrtle 
understood  its  full  meaning.  The  fellow  was  also 
lost  to  all  sense  of  decency,  that  now,  as  she  moved 
away,  he  attempted  to  hold  her  back  and  grasped 
her  arm.  But  young  and  strong  as  she  was  Myrtle 
tore  herself  away,  ran  to  her  room  and  locked  her- 
self in.  The  next  morning  too  she  adroitly  per- 
suaded the  less  timid  Norah  to  wait  on  this  fellow 
when  he  should  come  in  and  so  escaped  further 
insult. 

Her  next  adventure  in  this  respect  came  a  week 


THE    FATAL    GIFT  239 

later  and  this  time  the  man  in  the  case  managed  it 
with  more  discretion.  She  waited  on  him  in  due 
order  when  he  was  seated  in  the  dining  room,  he 
smiled  at  her  once  or  twice,  said  thank  you  as  many 
times,  ate  his  supper  and  walked  out  as  a  well-be- 
haved man  should.  At  breakfast  he  was  as  courte- 
ous, at  dinner  the  same,  and  by  this  time  Myrtle  be- 
gan to  think  him  a  very  nice  young  man.  He  was, 
too,  in  looks,  for  his  linen  was  spotless,  raiment 
modest  and  well-fitting,  everything  about  him  spick 
and  span,  while  to  complete  his  dandified  appearance 
a  faint  odor  of  some  delicate  perfume  was  diffused 
about  him. 

And  that  afternoon  when  she  (as  she  now  did 
almost  daily)  started  for  the  gorge  to  gather  laurel 
for  the  tables,  he  followed  her.  She  did  not  see 
him  do  this  and  was  well  into  the  blossom-laden 
bushes  ere  she  spied  him  coming. 

"  I  saw  you  leaving  the  hotel,  Miss  Stone,"  he 
said  pleasantly  thus  accosting  her  and  raising  his 
hat,  "  and  I  guessed  your  errand  from  what  I  no- 
ticed in  your  dining  room.  It's  very  nice  of  you 
girls  to  decorate  the  tables  so  and  it  makes  food 
taste  better.  I  thought  I'd  come  and  help  you,  hop- 
ing that  you  would  not  mind  company." 

"  I  like  to  have  flowers  in  the  dining  room,"  Myr- 
tle answered  pleased  at  this  polite  speech  yet  won- 


240  MYETLE  BALDWIN 

dering  how  he  came  to  know  her  name,  "  and  I  try; 
and  pick  some  fresh  ones  every  day." 

"  You  have  an  ample  supply  to  draw  on,"  he  re- 
joined, glancing  up  the  laurel  bank,  "  and  I  think 
this  gorge  and  Conway  Hollow  one  of  the  most 
charming  places  on  my  route.  I  am  a  traveling 
man,"  he  continued,  beginning  to  break  off  clusters 
of  laurel,  "  my  name  is  Canfield,  Ned  Canfield,  and 
I'd  like  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  you." 

"  How  did  you  find  out  my  name  ?  "  Myrtle  quer- 
ied in  surprise  and  looking  curiously  at  him. 

"  Why,  asked,  of  course,"  he  rejoined,  smiling 
at  her,  "  and  I  think  Miss  Iva  Stone  is  a  most 
charming  name.  Reminds  one  of  Ivy,  the  clinging 
vine.  I  hope  you  are  of  the  same  nature  ?  " 

The  insinuation  escaped  her. 

"  I  suppose  my  name  makes  one  think  of  Ivy," 
she  answered  recalling  the  one  who  so  named  her 
and  coloring. 

"  It  does,  of  course,  and  your  mamma  or  papa, 
whichever  one  so  named  you  had  a  romantic  na- 
ture. Are  you  romantic  ?  " 

"I  —  I  guess  not,"  she  stammered. 

"  But  you  must  be,  you  love  flowers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  to  love  them,"  she  responded  noti- 
cing how  his  eyes  seemed  to  be  devouring  her,  and 
moving  out  of  the  laurel  thicket. 


THE   FATAL    GIFT  24:1 

"  So  do  I,"  he  continued  in  familiar  tone,  "  and 
I  guess  we  are  alike  in  our  nature.  Now,  wHat  do 
you  say  to  a  stroll  up  the  gorge  in  the  road?  It's 
cool  and  nice  up  there  and  we  can  sit  down  in  some 
shady  spot  and  visit.  I  want  to  tell  you  all  about 
myself,"  he  added  briskly,  "  and  get  your  promise 
to  write  me.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now  I  fell 
in  love  with  you  last  night.  How  and  where  did 
Landlord  Barker  find  so  pretty  a  girl  is  what  puz- 
zles me  ? " 

But  his  wooing  was  too  hasty,  and  Myrtle  took 
fright  at  once. 

"  I  don't  care  to  walk  up  the  gorge,"  she  answered 
coldly,  "  and  I  must  go  back  to  the  hotel  now." 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  don't  say  that,"  he  pleaded ;  "  why, 
it's  two  hours  before  they  will  need  you  and  I 
waited  over  just  for  this,  or  any  chance  to  see  you 
alone.  Come  let's  go  up  the  gorge  ?  " 

But  he  might  as  well  have  asked  her  to  fly,  in  fact 
she  felt  like  doing  that  now  towards  the  hotel  in 
order  to  escape  from  this  importuning  fellow. 

"But  you  will  promise  to  write  me,  won't  you, 
Iva  ? "  he  again  pleaded.  "  I  tell  you  I'm  dead 
gone  on  you,  just  say  you  will  do  that." 

But  he  had  said  too  much  already  and  not  an- 
other word  would  the  scared  girl  now  vouchsafe 
him.  More  than  that,  her  heart  was  going  like  a 


242  MYETLB  BALDWIN 

trip-hammer,  her  face  angered  by  shame,  and  the 
almost  insult  of  his  words. 

"  No  sir,  I  won't  write  you,"  she  announced  de- 
fiantly, and  now  out  of  the  laurel  growth  she  started 
and  ran  for  the  hotel  as  if  pursued  by  an  evil  spirit. 

Later  that  afternoon  Mr.  Ned  Canfield,  usually 
successful  in  his  gallantries,  took  the  stage  out  of 
Conway  Hollow  with  a  full  realization  that  for  once 
in  his  life  he  had  made  an  ignominious  failure. 
That  night  also  Myrtle  confided  her  vexations,  or 
the  two  episodes,  to  the  more  world-wise  Norah  and 
in  turn  received  a  little  sage  advice. 

"  Don't  ye  moind  the  blaggards,"  Norah  advised, 
"  shure  dhrummers  do  be  all  alike  an'  after  ivry 
puty  gal  they  see.  Some  go  about  it  loike  splittin' 
wood,  az  the  felly  wid  the  rid  necktie  did  an'  others 
aisy  like  an'  palaverin.  They  all  mane  the  same,  to 
git  the  bist  o'  ye  somehow.  Do  ez  I  do,  sthring  'em 
along,  give  'em  a  touch  o'  blarney,  make  'em  think 
you're  aisy,  an'  they'll  lave  quarters  'n'  halves  on 
the  table.  Shure  I  make  a  couple  o'  dollars  or  more 
a  wake  that  way.  If  I'd  bin  follered  by  that  felly 
you  was  an'  axed  to  write  him  letthers,  I'd  'a'  said 
'  Shure  I  will,  jist  give  me  a  dollar  or  two  for  post- 
age,' an'  the  fool  wud,  fast  enough." 

It  is  likely  also  if  these  professional  Lotharios 
could  see  themselves  as  even  table  girls  see  them, 


THE   FATAL    GIFT  243 

they  might  feel  a  little  less  of  the  overweening,  ever- 
present  vanity,  so  characteristic  of  them,  and  per- 
haps a  trifling  sense  of  shame.  That,  however,  is 
scarcely  to  be  expected.  They  will  not  even  respect 
the  pride  of  others,  much  less  their  own. 

But  Myrtle  could  not  follow  the  cynical  advice  of 
Norah.  To  her  a  penny  so  obtained  would  seem 
shameful.  Even  the  loan  Mark  had  made  her  grew 
in  burden  day  by  day.  To  save  it  up  from  her 
small  wages  was  her  one  end  and  aim  in  life  now 
to  the  extent  also  of  petty  denials  in  all  ways. 

But  would  she  ever  have  the  chance  to  pay  it  back  ? 
Would  her  eyes  ever  be  gladdened  by  sight  of  him 


"  Sometime,  sometime,"  her  heart  kept  saying  each 
and  every  hour. 

Like  all  of  us  she  had  started  on  her  journey  to 
the  beautiful  Island  of  Sometime  and  Eainbowville. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  NEW  AND  ONLY  SISTER 

FOB  almost  three  months  now,  Mark  Mason  — 
usually  calm  and  serene  —  had  suffered  from  the 
most  insidious  unrest  and  heart-hunger  that  can  af- 
flict mortal  man.  A  "  fool  illusion "  he  called  it 
and  yet  it  crowded  itself  into  his  business,  made  him 
forget  the  days  of  the  week,  kept  him  awake  nights, 
and  lost  him  money.  More  than  that,  it  kept  him 
on  perpetual  watch  for  one  face  amid  the  ever-mov- 
ing crowds  of  a  great  city,  or  wherever  he  went. 
But  the  moment  he  read  the  summons  to  meet  this 
mysterious  lady  in  exactly  one  week  it  seemed  as 
if  a  door  into  another  world  had  opened  and  his 
lost  sweetheart  found.  He  replied  as  soon  as  he 
could  reach  his  office,  and  then  began  the  longest 
waiting  week  of  all  his  life. 

And  never  had  there  been,  one  whose  leaden-shod 
hours  had  moved  so  slowly.  But  it  ended  finally, 
and  at  exactly  twelve  o'clock  on  the  day  appointed 
Mark  walked  into  the  Concord  post  office. 

244 


A   NEW    ANT>    ONLY    SISTER  245 

A  lady  of  medium  height  and  superb  figure 
dressed  in  excellent  taste  entered  at  another  door 
almost  the  same  instant,  glanced  at  him  with  big, 
soulful,  black  eyes,  turned  away,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment a  black-bordered  handkerchief  was  half  dis- 
closed in  her  left  hand. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  madam,"  Mark  said  advancing  to 
meet  her,  bowing  and  raising  his  hat  politely,  "  but 
I  am  Mr.  Mason." 

One  quick,  keen  flash  from  those  imperious  eyes, 
then  she  also  bowed  slightly  and  smiled. 

"  And  I  am  Mrs.  M.  B.  TL,"  she  answered  in  low 
tone,  glancing  around.  "  Please  let  us  walk  away 
from  here.  I  wish  to  avoid  all  publicity,  you  see," 
she  added  as  they  reached  the  sidewalk. 

"  Of  course,"  Mark  rejoined,  "  I  understand.  I 
also  suggest  we  stroll  up  to  a  little  park  not  far 
away,  as  if  we  were  two  strangers  visiting  this 
city." 

"  That  is  wise,"  she  returned,  again  smiling,  "  and 
I  see  you  are  a  considerate  gentleman." 

"  I  always  try  to  be,  and  now  may  I  ask  your 
name  ? " 

"  You  may  call  me  Mrs.  Upson ;  I  am  a  widow." 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Upson,"  he  replied,  now  more  at 
ease  and  hastening  his  steps  away  from  the  post 
office,  "you  must  pardon  my  undue  eagerness  but 


246  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

have  you  tidings  of  —  any  good  news  for  me  ?  You 
see  I  can't  wait." 

"  So  I  observe,"  she  returned  with  a  droll  smile 
and  another  glance  at  him.  "  Also  that  you  are 
what  I  guessed,  a  lover  of  this  runaway  girl.  I 
am  sorry  to  disappoint  you,"  she  added  hastily,  "  but 
I  have  no  tidings  of  her.  It  is  I  who  wish  for  them 
as  well  as  you." 

"  But  you  said  you  had  something  of  vital  in- 
terest to  tell  me,  and  I  hoped  it  was  news  of  her." 

"And  so  I  have,  Mr.  Mason,  but  I  must  —  and 
you  will  excuse  me  for  saying  it  —  first  ask  you 
a  few  personal  questions.  You  are  as  yet  a  total 
stranger  to  me." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  he  interrupted  eagerly,  "  and 
I  beg  your  pardon  also  for  my  haste.  I  am,  as  you 
surmised,  the  lover." 

"  And  I  thank  you  too  for  that  admission,"  she 
rejoined  as  eagerly,  "  it  goes  far  towards  establish- 
ing my  confidence." 

Like  all  men  in  love  Mark  could  scarce  wait  for 
anything,  yet  he  now  realized  that  he  was  on  the 
verge  of  an  important  discovery  only  he  must  first 
make  sure  of  his  ground.  He  asked  no  more  ques- 
tions until  their  rather  hurried  steps  brought  them 
to  the  now  deserted  little  park  and  to  an  iron  settee 
in  its  most  secluded  corner. 


A    NEW    AND    ONLY    SISTER  247 

"We  can  sit  here,  Mrs.  Upson,"  he  then  said, 
waving  her  to  the  seat,  "  and  now  I  will  tell  you 
frankly  who  I  am." 

And  he  then  did  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  only 
omitting  all  reference  to  his  birth  and  beginning  his 
history  with  the  bare  statement  of  being  an  orphan 
left  at  Good  Will  Farm  to  be  brought  up. 

"  I  have  been  a  traveling  man  for  ten  years,"  he 
added  in  conclusion,  "  also  fairly  successful  in  a 
business  way.  I  now  have  an  office  of  my  own,  do 
a  commission  business  in  my  line  of  goods,  or  buy, 
sell,  and  have  them  shipped  as  I  direct,  and  travel 
but  very  little.  Last  July  I  was  on  a  yachting  trip 
with  a  few  friends,  we  anchored  in  a  sheltered  cove 
inside  a  barren  island  on  the  Maine  coast  known 
as  Folly  Island  and  here  I  met  and  became  inter- 
ested in  this  girl  whose  whereabouts  I  am  now  so 
anxious  to  find." 

"And  was  her  name  Myrtle  Baldwin  or  Iva 
Stone,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Upson  anxiously,  "  and 
was  she, —  I  mean  whom  was  she  living  with  on 
this  island  ?  " 

And  now  the  tense  look,  the  keen  observant  eyes 
of  this  lady  —  eyes  so  like  Myrtle's  —  that  had 
never  once  left  his  face  during  the  recital  —  gave 
Mark  his  first  clue  as  to  who  she  was.  And  that 
possibility  made  his  heart  almost  leap  to  his  throat ! 


248  MTETLB  BALDWIN 

It  also  —  and  now  he  saw  his  opening  —  gave  him 
courage  to  turn  questioner  himself. 

"  You  must  pardon  me,  Mrs.  Upson,"  he  said 
courteously,  and  ignoring  her  question,  "  but  may 
I  now  ask  why  you  are  interested  in  this  girl  and 
do  you  know  anything  about  her  ?  I  have  given 
my  own  personal  history  in  full,  admitted  I  was  an 
honorable  lover  of  this  young  lady,  but  how  she  came 
to  leave  this  island  and  my  knowledge  of  the  mat- 
ter is  —  well,  I  feel  I  should  first  know  who  you 
are  or  why  you  ask  before  disclosing  it." 

"  I  admit  the  fairness  of  your  request,"  Mrs.  Up- 
son responded,  coloring,  "  and  respect  your  sense  of 
caution  and  honor.  Trust  me  a  few  moments  longer 
and  permit  me  to  ask  you  one  or  two  more  ques- 
tions. I  notice  you  wear  a  Knight  Templar  charm. 
Are  you  a  Mason  ?  " 

"  I  am,  Mrs.  Upson,  and  no  man  would  dare 
wear  that  emblem  of  Knighthood  unless  he  had  the 
right,  I  assure  you." 

"  And  I  have  been  informed  that  all  Masons  are 
in  honor  bound  to  protect  and  care  for  the  widows 
and  orphans  of  brother  Masons,"  she  continued 
eagerly,  "  and  can  be  trusted  by  us  ?  " 

"  We  most  certainly  are,"  Mark  rejoined  feeling 
proud  of  that  world-wide  and  admitted  fact.  "All 
the  fraternity  are  bound  together  and  obligated  by 


A   NEW    AND    ONLY    SISTER  249 

the  most  solemn  and  sacred  vows  to  do  that  very 
thing.  In  fact  that  duty  and  bond  is  one  of  the 
corner  stones  of  Masonry  and  has  been  for  thousands 
of  years.  It  is  a  survival  of  the  age  of  chivalry 
when  gallant  knights'  1  considered  protection  of 
womankind  a  part  of  their  religion.  I  am  a 
Mason  of  high  degree,"  he  continued  warming  to 
the  subject,  "  the  thirty-second,  and  proud  of  the 
fact  as  well.  ISTow  may  I  inquire  why  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  she  responded  with  due  meekness 
and  smiling.  "  I  am  the  widow  of  a  thirty-second 
degree  Mason  myself,  and  my  husband  had  the  honor 
of  filling  the  master's  chairs  in  several  of  your 
bodies.  N"ow  will  you  trust  me  a  little  further  and 
tell  me  about  this  girl  —  I  am  sure  you  love  honor- 
ably? If  she  proves  to  be  the  one  I  surmise,  I 
will  then  tell  you  who  I  am  and  why  I  wrote  you. 
I  ask  this  confidence  of  you  as  the  widow  of  a 
brother  Mason." 

"  I  cannot  refuse  your  claim,"  Mark  rejoined, 
now  impressed  by  her  earnestness  and  watching  her 
closely,  "  and  have  no  wish  to  do  so.  Only  this 
girl's  history,  good  name,  and  fortunes  are  so  near 
and  dear  to  me  that  I  felt  the  need  of  extreme  cau- 
tion. She,  this  Myrtle  Baldwin,  is  the  granddaugh- 
ter of  a  Cap'n  Judson  Baldwin  who  owns  Folly 
Island  and  the  worst-tempered  old  sea-dog  I  ever 


250  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

met.  This  girl,  brought  up  by  him  and  a  spinster 
sister,  was  neglected,  abused,  barely  educated  to 
read  and  write,  made  to  do  the  filthiest  and  hardest 
work,  whipped  occasionally,  and  denied  even  decent 
clothing.  I  saw  her  at  her  work,  heard  her  cursed 
and  insulted,  heard  her  story  from  her  own  lips  and 
took  pity  on  her.  More  than  that,  in  three  days' 
time  I  fell  in  love  with  her.  I  found  also  she  meant 
to  run  away.  I  advised  her  how  best  to  do  so, 
assured  her  of  my  assistance  in  finding  a  home, 
gave  her  money  to  escape  with,  and  left  her  to 
await  my  instructions  by  letter.  I  soon  decided 
where  she'd  best  go  for  a  time,  to  Good  Will  Farm, 
wrote  her  as  promised,  including  a  proposal  of  mar- 
riage, and  awaited  her  escape  from  the  island.  The 
letter  was  taken  and  read  by  this  brutal  grandfather 
as  I've  learned,  she  was  cursed,  (and  I  imagine) 
whipped  by  him  and  ran  away.  Where  to,  God 
only  knows.  I've  traced  her  to  the  city  of  B — , 
have  advertised  far  and  wide,  and  that  is  all  I  can 
say  and  the  whole  story  except  that  in  our  dis- 
cussion of  the  runaway  plan  I  advised  her  to  as- 
sume the  name  of  Iva  Stone.  Now  Mrs.  Upson, 
as  a  man  of  honor  and  a  Mason  permit  me  to  ask 
who  you  are  ?  " 

And    now    came    the    crucial    moment    in    this 
woman's  life! 


A    NEW    AND    ONLY    SISTER  251 

Not  for  once  during  that  recital  had  her  deep, 
dark,  soulful  eyes  left  Mark's  face.  Every  word 
he  uttered  had  been  watched  and  waited  for  as  if 
a  life  depended  on  it,  while  she  scarce  breathed. 
Her  hands  clasped  in  her  lap  seemed  trying  to  tie 
themselves  into  a  knot,  lips  firm  set,  face  tense  and 
eager.  One  instant  only  did  she  now  hesitate,  then 
all  the  years  of  her  shame,  sorrow,  heartache,  and 
humiliation  were  uttered  in  a  low  whisper. 

"  I  am  that  girl's  mother,  God  forgive  me !  "  she 
answered. 

Then  she  bowed,  covered  her  face  and  burst  into 
tears. 

There  are  some  moments  in  life  too  sacred  for  the  ' 
eyes  of  another.     This  now  seemed  such  a  one  to 
Mark  and  he  turned  away. 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  dear  lady,"  he  exclaimed  a 
moment  later,  "  and  let  us  rejoice  that  we  have 
met.  I  felt  almost  sure  who  you  were,  and  I  thank 
God  I've  found  you.  Now  we  can  work  together 
as  one." 

"  But  how  can  you  respect  —  what  must  you 
think  of  me,"  she  queried,  raising  her  face,  "  me  a 
mother,  to  send  my  babe,  no,  carry  it  there,  and 
leave  it  where  I  knew  love  would  never  come  to 
it?  How  can  you  or  any  man  of  honor  and  man- 
hood forgive  that  ? " 


252  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  I  judge  not  lest  I  in  turn  be  judged,"  he  an- 
swered courteously.  "  All  sins  in  this  world  carry 
their  own  lash  and  if  you  have  wronged  this  child 
you  have  wronged  yourself  as  well  and  paid  the 
penalty.  It  is  not  for  me  to  say  or  gainsay  one 
word.  Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead." 

"  But  you  shall  hear  my  story,"  she  exclaimed 
now  brightening,  "  aye,  every  word  for  you  have 
earned  the  right.  I  was  that  Cap'n  Jud's  only 
daughter  and  taken  to  Folly  Island  when  fourteen 
years  old.  I,  too,  became  his  drudge  and  slave, 
was  cursed,  and  starved  for  love.  I  never  knew 
what  a  mother  was,  for  mine  died  when  I  was  two 
years  old.  I,  too,  grew  desperate  at  my  hard,  lonely 
lot  on  that  barren  island  with  the  sea  forever  moan- 
ing. I,  too,  ran  away,  met  a  man  —  no  a  scoun- 
drel! I  was  young,  innocent,  confiding,  and  be- 
lieved he  was  a  single  man  and  telling  me  truth. 
I  was  also  so  alone  and  helpless  that  I  consented  to 
a  marriage  after  knowing  him  but  two  weeks.  Then 
he  took  me  to  your  city,  established  me  in  a  pretty 
flat,  and  for  six  months  I  lived  in  a  fool's  paradise 
to  end  in  my  learning  that  the  name  he  married  me 
under  was  an  assumed  ene,  that  he  had  a  wife  and 
family  and  that  I  was  a  duped  and  betrayed  girl. 
Then  came  a  scene  every  word  of  which  is  burned 
into  my  memory,  and  all  the  satisfaction  I  got  was 


A   NEW   AND    ONLY   SISTER  253 

to  have  a  roll  of  money  thrown  at  me,  almost,  and 
told  to  shift  for  myself.  I  did,  too,  I  left  the  city, 
obtained  work  and  two  months  later  sought  refuge 
in  a  maternity  hospital  where  my  baby  was  born. 
Here,  too,  I  found  friends  who  listened  to  the  story 
of  my  wrongs  and  following  their  advice  I,  later 
on,  took  the  child  to  Folly  Island,  and  through  them 
a  few  months  afterwards,  obtained  a  position  as  as- 
sistant in  another  hospital.  There  I  lived,  worked, 
and  studied  for  ten  years,  and  became  a  competent 
nurse.  Here  also  I  met  Mr.  Upson,  a  widower 
much  older  than  I,  who  had  been  brought  to  this 
hospital  to  undergo  a  serious  operation.  I  was 
given  the  case;  for  weeks  and  weeks  his  life  barely 
hung  by  a  thread,  with  many  a  stretch  of  two  and 
three  days'  watching  by  me  while  I  never  once 
closed  my  eyes  in  sleep.  We  saved  his  life,  how- 
ever, and  when  convalescent  he  asked  me  to  marry 
him  and  care  for  his  children  as  well.  I  told  him. 
my  story  in  full,  it  did  not  alter  his  wish,  and  then 
we  were  married.  He  lived  only  about  five  years, 
I  was  left  well  provided  for,  and  am  doing  my  best 
to  be  a  mother  to  his  two  children,  a  boy  and  girl 
now  grown  up.  My  home  is  in  a  small  town  many 
miles  from  this  city,  it  would  have  provoked  no  end 
of  gossip  had  I  met  you  there,  and  so  I  asked  you 
to  come  here." 


254  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence,"  Mark  re- 
joined, after  her  recital  of  this  not  unusual  story, 
"  and  there  is  no  need  of  my  assuring  you  it  shall 
never  be  lisped  by  me.  There  is  only  one  question 
I  wish  to  ask,  and  that  I  ask  as  a  Mason,  and  be- 
cause it  may  come  within  my  power  to  mete  out  a 
tithe  of  punishment  to  the  scoundrel  who  so  wronged 
you.  I  would  like  to  know  his  name." 

"  His  name  is  Harry  Graham  Goodnow,"  she  an- 
swered slowly,  "  and  a  well-known  business  man,  I 
believe,  in  your  city." 

"  Harry  Goodnow,  good  Lord !  "  exclaimed  Mark 
in  utter  astonishment,  "  why  I  know  him  and  it 
was  his  son  Frank  who  owns  the  yacht  I  went  to 
Folly  Island  on!  Well,  well,  well,  how  our  sins 
do  find  us  out  in  this  world !  " 

Then  the  two  looked  at  one  another  long  and 
earnestly,  for  a  new  faith  and  new  hope  now  linked 
their  hearts  and  lives.  To  both  also  the  sun  now 
seemed  to  shine  a  little  brighter  for  ahead  of  them 
lay  a  mutual  duty  yet  to  do,  and  a  life  yet  to  join 
with  theirs. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Upson,"  Mark  now  exclaimed, 
suddenly  drawing  forth  his  watch,  "  do  you  know 
what  time  it  is  2  " 

"  No,  nor  care,"  she  answered  returning  the 
smile,  "  the  only  thing  I  do  know  is  that  kind  fate 


A   NEW    AND    ONLY    SISTER  255 

has  brought  me  a  friend  and  brother  whom  I  feel 
I  can  trust." 

"  And  so  you  can,"  he  rejoined  proudly,  "  as  long 
as  I  live  and  am  sane.  In  the  meantime  it's  two- 
thirty.  I  am  nearly  starved  so  let  us  hunt  for 
dinner." 

Then  he  arose,  escorted  her  to  the  one  most  ex- 
cellent hotel  of  that  city,  "  The  Eagle,"  showed  her 
into  its  parlor,  descended  to  the  office  and  wrote 
"  Mark  Mason  and  Sister,"  on  the  register. 

"  Dinner  only,"  he  said  to  the  urbane  clerk,  "  my 
sister  and  myself  are  merely  stopping  off  here  be- 
tween trains." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

"  YE   DBUMMER  " 

"  AND  now,  Mrs.  Upson,"  Mark  observed  after 
they  had  dined  and  once  more  returned  to  "  The 
Eagle's  "  cozy  parlor,  "  how  much  time  have  we  and 
when  do  you  wish  to  return  to  Glendale  ? " 

"  I  must  go  hack  on  the  last  train  to-day,"  she 
answered  smiling  at  his  direct  business  way. 

"  Then  you  have  two  hours  and  eighteen  minutes, 
exactly,"  after  a  quick  glance  at  his  watch,  "  and  I 
suggest  we  remain  here.  It's  more  secluded  and 
more  comfortable." 

"  I  am  agreeable,"  she  rejoined,  accepting  his  im- 
plied invitation  and  seating  herself  in  one  of  the 
luxurious  chairs.  Then  added  "  you  seem  quite  at 
home  in  a  hotel,  Mr.  Mason  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  I've  lived  in  them  continuously  for 
ten  years  you  know,  and  — "  drawing  another  chair 
around  to  face  her  — "  I  ought  to  feel  at  home  in 
them." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  remember  you  said  you  had  been  a 
traveling  man.  Do  you  know,"  she  continued  look- 

256 


"  YE    DRUMMER  "  257 

ing  curiously  at  him,  "  I've  always  had  a  bad  im- 
pression of  —  of  men  of  your  calling  ?  You  must 
excuse  me  but  they  are  considered  as  —  rather  lack- 
ing in  moral  character.  You  seem  to  be,  however, 
a  most  laudable  exception." 

"  No,  not  an  exception  by  any  means,  rather  a 
fair  average  of  the  better  and  more  sensible  ones 
among  us  commercial  men.  The  facts  in  the  case, 
Mrs.  Upson,"  he  continued  earnestly,  "  are  that 
the  character,  ability,  and  average  good-citizen- 
ship of  the  traveling  fraternity  to-day  are  far  better 
than  the  general  public  give  them  credit  for.  It 
wasn't  always  so,  I  admit.  There  was  a  time,  many 
years  ago,  when  this  method  of  selling  goods  by 
sample  first  began,  that  the  men  attracted  by  it 
were  not  all  they  should  have  been  in  character. 
A  class  of  rounders,  as  it  were,  a  happy-go-lucky  set 
familiar  with  all  the  cardinal  vices  and  indulging 
in  them  without  regard  to  name,  fame,  or  their  own 
self-respect.  They,  being  far  removed  from  home 
influences,  no  one  knowing  their  names  or  whence 
they  came;  seemed  to  feel  they  could  cut  loose,  as 
it  were,  and  ignore  all  social  and  moral  obligations. 
Then  with  plenty  of  money  to  spend,  all  the  doors 
of  vice  wide  open  for  them  and  most  of  the  others 
closed,  it's  no  wonder  they  achieved  the  reputation 
they  did.  To-day  it's  different,  however,  for  the 


258  MYBTLE   BALDWIN" 

inflexible  law  of  survival  of  the  fittest  has  entered 
into  our  ranks,  the  wholesale  houses  or  manufac- 
turers have  found  they  could  not  afford  to  employ 
men  who  drank,  who  gambled,  and  who  pursued 
worse  vices,  and  one  by  one  the  sports  and  rounders 
were  called  in  and  relegated  to  less  responsible  po- 
sitions. One  by  one,  also,  a  better  and  more  sensible 
class  of  men  have  taken  their  places,  and  so  the 
evolution  has  gone  on.  Then  this  weeding-out  pro- 
cess, this  separation  of  the  sheep  from  the  goats  be- 
gan also  from  the  other  side  in  the  way  of  competi- 
tion among  traveling  men.  Those  who  retired  at  a 
reasonable  hour  and  sober,  arose  early  and  hustled, 
inevitably  got  ahead  of  those  who  didn't  and  se- 
cured the  most  orders.  Merchants  also  found  these 
better-behaved  ones  were  best  to  buy  from,  the  moral 
sympathy  that  permeates  all  classes  influenced  them, 
and  those  who  behaved  best  obtained  the  largest 
orders  and  most  consideration.  It  has  been  a  long, 
slow,  uphill  evolution,  yet  as  inflexible  as  the  rising 
of  the  tides,  and  to-day  the  traveling  men  as  a  class, 
are  the  equals  of  any  profession  in  moral  character, 
self-respecting  conduct,  and  good  sensible  behavior. 
More  than  that,  so  well  recognized  is  their  ability 
that,  take  them  as  a  whole,  they  earn  and  are  paid 
more  money  than  the  average  of  doctors,  lawyers,  or 
clergymen-. 


"YE  DRUMMER"  259 

"  But,"  continued  Mark  smiling  at  Mrs.  Upson 
in  a  contemplative  way,  "  we  still  have  to  bear  the 
odium  of  our  predecessors,  we  still  are  like  Poor 
Tray  perpetually  whipped  for  having  once  been 
found  in  bad  company,  and  yet  there  is  no  justice 
in  it!  It's  a  case  of  once  call  a  dog  a  bad  dog  and 
a  bad  dog  he  remains  ever  after.  I  have  been  one 
of  the  fraternity,  as  I  said,  ten  years.  I  have 
watched  and  studied  them  well,  and  while  there 
are  a  few  black  sheep  among  us  still,  they  are  ex- 
ceptions and  seldom  remain  with  us  many  years. 
In  fact  they  absolutely  can't  for  the  grind  of  compe- 
tition inevitably  weeds  them  out." 

"  I  am  more  than  pleased  to  hear  the  inside  history 
of  your  fraternity,"  Mrs.  Upson  now  rejoined,  "  and 
it  has  been  an  enlightenment.  Living  in  a  small 
village  as  I  have  since  my  eyes  were  opened  to  the 
world's  ways  and  —  pardon  me  —  the  iniquities  of 
men,  I  have  naturally  accepted  a  village  verdict  on 
your  class.  And  now,  my  friend,  as  I  feel  I  can 
call  you,  what  do  you  advise  and  how  shall  we  go 
about  the  solution  of  this  mystery  and  find  the 
poor  girl  you  at  least  have  a  claim  upon  ? " 

"  And  haven't  you  as  well  ? "  returned  Mark 
quickly.  "  To  my  mind,  you  have  the  deepest  and 
holiest  claim,  that  of  a  mother." 

"  But  she  may  not  recognize  it,"  Mrs.  Upson  re- 


MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

sponded  sadly.  "  I  forfeited  that  right  by  my  own 
heartless  act  and  God  only  knows  why  I  did  it! 
She,  that  helpless  babe,  did  not  seem  my  own  but 
the  curse  that  scoundrel,  Goodnow,  had  laid  upon 
my  life.  I  was  almost  insane  then  from  shame  and 
humiliation,  and  the  world  seemed  an  accursed  place 
where  I  must  starve.  A  home  was  offered  me  in 
the  hospital  and  chance  to  earn  a  livelihood  if  I 
could  or  would  relieve  myself  from  the  encumbrance 
of  a  child.  I  was  also  advised  to  place  it  in  an 
asylum,  but  feeling  as  I  then  did,  I  took  the  poor 
helpless  babe  to  Folly  Island  for  two  reasons,  one 
that  I  must  get  rid  of  her  to  obtain  the  position 
open  to  me,  the  other  an  unholy  wish  to  avenge 
myself  for  being  driven  from  home  by  my  father. 
It's  no  excuse  for  my  own  heartless  conduct,  God 
only  knows  how  I  have  suffered  to  pay  for  it,  and 
now  the  one  and  only  object  of  my  life  shall  be 
to  make  amends,  to  find  that  poor,  motherless  child 
of  mine  and  beg  forgiveness  on  my  knees,"  and  once 
more  the  tears  came  to  this  unhappy  woman's  eyes. 

But  Mark,  sensible  business  man  that  he  was,  soon 
smoothed  them  away. 

"  Retrospection  is  worse  than  useless,  my  dear  sis- 
ter," he  said  soothingly,  "  and  grieving  over  bygones 
as  much  so.  A  young  girl  in  your  situation  then, 
almost  insane  from  the  wrong  done  her  can  never 


"YE  DRUMMER"  261 

be  really  blamed  for  any  action  short  of  murder. 
Now  we  will  find  Myrtle,  you  and  I,  if  we  live  long 
enough,  and," —  smilingly, —  "  maybe  we  can  per- 
suade you  to  join  home-making  with  us  and  refute 
the  proverbial  mother-in-law  sneer." 

And  then  once  again  the  eyes  of  "dear  sister" 
grew  misty. 

"  I  feel  encouraged,"  Mark  continued  buoyantly, 
"  I've  now  got  a  keen-witted  woman  to  advise  and 
aid  me  in  this  search  and  shall  continue  it  with  more 
hope  of  success".  Now  what  in  your  opinion  should 
be  our  next  move  ?  " 

But  the  question  was  a  poser,  as  it  would  have 
been  to  anyone. 

"  I  am  as  much  in  the  dark  as  you,  my  dear 
friend,"  Mrs.  TJpson  responded  after  a  long,  con- 
templative pause.  "  Knowing  my  child's  nature,  or 
what  it  must  be,  she  inevitably  followed  your  ad- 
vice as  to  the  matter  of  earning  a  living.  How  much 
and  in  what  way  did  you  advise  her  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  go  to  some  country  village,"  he  replied, 
trying  to  recall  just  what  he  had  suggested.  "  I 
think  I  suggested  that  she  obtain  some  chance  to 
do  housework  temporarily.  That  was  about  all  she 
was  fitted  for;  I  also  advised  her  to  change  her 
name  and  to  beware  of  men's  flatteries." 

"  Then  that  is  just  what  she  has  done,"  inter- 


262  MYETLE   BAU)WIW 

rupted  Mrs.  Upson,  "  and  my  idea  is  she  must  be 
now  at  some  secluded  farm-house  where  papers  are 
seldom  read.  It  is  curious,  too,"  she  added  mus- 
ingly, "  we  take  two  daily  papers,  one  of  your  city's 
best,  also  two  weekly  ones,  yet  I  never  saw  your 
advertisement  and  would  never  have  heard  of  it  had 
it  not  been  for  the  name  Iva  Stone.  A  friend  of 
mine  living  in  another  State  whose  name  was  also 
Iva  Stone  sent  me  the  clipping  as  a  joke  on  herself, 
and  I  can  assure  you  it  made  me  gasp  for  breath ! 
Later  I  found  it  in  our  local  paper,  in  a  two  weeks' 
old  issue." 

"  Well  that  is  curious,"  ejaculated  Mark,  "  a  blind 
shot  in  the  dark  that  scored,  and  my  selection  of 
that  name  was  suggested  by  a  stone  playhouse  built 
by  your  child  in  her  loneliness,  on  one  side  of  which 
grew  an  ivy  vine.  The  question  now  is,  however, 
where  shall  we  look  for  her." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Upson  as  the  al- 
most hopeless  nature  of  this  task  again  asserted  itself. 
"  All  I  can  see  is  to  continue  the  advertising  and 
offer  of  reward.  I  would  advise,  also,  sending  a 
few  small  posters  to  every  country  village  within 
the  radius  of  her  possible  journey  ings.  I've  seen 
them  often  in  our  village  post  office,  rewards  for 
stolen  horses,  escaped  criminals,  and  the  like." 

"  That  seems  a  wise  suggestion,"  Mark  responded 


"  YE   DEUMMEB,  "  263 

eagerly,  "  and  I'll  do  it  at  once.  My  God,  we've  got 
to  find  that  girl,  cost  what  it  may !  " 

For  a  half-hour  more  this  mutual  duty  and  how 
best  to  carry  it  out,  was  discussed  with  all  its  pro's 
and  con's  and  then  Mark  recurred  to  his  own  feel- 
ings and  how  he  came  so  suddenly  to  fall  in  love  with 
this  unhappy  fisher-maid.  Her  hard-worked  life  on 
Folly  Island  was  described ;  Sandy  Bay's  interest  in 
her  and  dislike  of  Cap'n  Jud  as  well,  Barney  and  his 
"  bats  in  belfry  "  witticism  recalled,  and  then  Mark 
again  returned  to  the  more  pertinent  subject  of  his 
own  meetings  with  Myrtle  and  first  impressions.  All 
the  details  of  this  romance,  his  first  sight  of  her,  how 
she  was  clad,  and  how  Cap'n  Jud  threw  a  bloody 
split  fish  at  her  were  described;  his  own  jaunt  over 
the  island  that  afternoon,  the  finding  of  the  flower 
garden  and  stone  hut,  then  the  girl  herself  were  all 
gone  over  and  enlarged  upon.  It  was  the  lover  now 
speaking  and  living  over  every  hour  of  the  first-love 
romance,  and  how  his  heart  opened  with  a  sudden 
burst  of  love  that  swept  all  personality  aside !  Even 
the  moonlit  meetings  on  the  bridge  were  admitted  and 
described  and  how  man-like  he  longed  to  clasp  this 
fair  maid  in  his  arms. 

"  I  couldn't  quite  do  so,"  he  declared  at  this  junc- 
ture. "  Somehow  she  seemed  so  innocent,  so  pure,  so 
confiding  in  me,  I  feared  to  shock  her  by  an  at- 


264-  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

tempted  embrace.  Ah  me,  I  wish  I  had  now,  and 
then  gone  to  Cap'n  Jud  the  next  morning  and  de- 
manded this  girl  for  my  wife  and  so  saved  her  from 
this  desperate  step.  I  even  had  the  chance  two  days 
later  and  was  so  advised  by  my  dear  old  friend,  Mr. 
Hinckley,  and  then  didn't !  All  in  all  and  reviewing 
my  own  conduct  I  feel  I  am  almost  entirely  to  blame 
for  this  situation." 

"  Ko,  I  cannot  agree  with  you,"  returned  Mrs. 
Upson  sadly.  "  A  wise  man  does  not  rush  headlong 
into  matrimony,  and  you  could  not  foresee  my 
father's  high-handed  act  and  interception  of  your 
letter.  The  one  and  only  guilty  person  in  this  un- 
fortunate matter  is  myself,  by  my  cowardly  desertion 
of  my  own  babe." 

But  time  flies  fast  when  two  persons  are  exchang- 
ing heart-histories,  and  now  Mark,  from  a  travelling 
man's  force  of  habit,  suddenly  consulted  his  watch. 

"  My  dear  mother,  as  I  hope  to  call  you  some  day," 
he  exclaimed,  "  your  train  will  leave  in  just  twenty 
minutes." 

And  so  ended  this  meeting  and  consultation. 

But  Mark  felt  as  he  said,  that  a  mother  —  albeit 
a  fairly  young  and  charming  one  —  had  suddenly  en- 
tered his  horizon,  and  so  impressed  was  he  by  her 
sincerity  and  womanly  feeling,  that  her  face  haunted 
him  all  the  way  back  to  the  city.  While  she  —  well, 


"YE  DRUMMER"  265 

let  any  woman  whose  life  has  been  so  wrecked  an- 
swer the  question. 

Nothing  had  been  accomplished,  however,  towards 
solving  the  problem,  as  Mark  now  realized.  He  was 
still  in  the  dark,  and  while  by  an  almost  miracle  he 
had  found  Myrtle's  mother,  the  girl  herself,  that 
poor,  homeless,  almost  helpless  waif,  was  lost  in  a 
great  world  of  strangers. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A  FEW  FEIEISTDS 

THEBE  were  some  amenities,  some  shreds  of  kindly 
interest  and  sympathy  that  in  due  time  came  to  Myr- 
tle at  Conway  Hollow.  The  keen-witted,  but  kind- 
hearted  Norah,  became  her  nearest  friend  and  ad- 
viser. First  in  the  matter  of  simple  but  much 
needed  raiment  and  visits  to  the  stores.  Then  to 
early  mass  in  which  Myrtle  found  an  unexpected 
solace  and  mysterious  effect  upon  her  feelings.  Re- 
ligion and  its  ceremonies  were  all  new  to  her,  the 
very  fact  that  her  grandfather  had  scoffed  at  it  and 
church-going  created  interest  in  it,  even  as  a  child  is 
induced  to  try  forbidden  paths.  But  ISTorah  was 
quite  broad,  in  a  way.  To  her  any  church  was 
worthy  of  consideration  and  while  her  own  was  un- 
deniably the  right  one,  the  two  others  in  the  village 
were  well  worthy  of  being  visited. 

"  Shure  prayers  do  be  heard  in  one  church  as  aisy 
as  in  another,"  she  said  when  Thursday  evening, 
first  bell  call  came  again,  "  an'  as  we  both  have  this 
avenin'  off,  let's  go  to  the  prayer  meeting"  and  go 

266 


A   FEW   FRIENDS  267 

they  did  and  again  the  following  week.  But  Sunday 
morning  service,  except  to  early  mass  with  Norah, 
was  denied  to  Myrtle.  Her  hours  of  work  were  all 
fixed  and  every  third  evening  after  eight  o'clock  and 
each  afternoon  from  two  until  five  was  all  the  time 
she  could  call  her  own  at  the  Barker  House.  And 
it  was  during  one  of  these  three  hours  of  afternoon 
freedom  that  she  made  another  friend. 

There  were  among  the  summer  sojourners  here  a 
Mrs.  Davis  and  daughter  from  a  southern  city  and 
the  younger  one  an  almost  helpless  cripple,  at  least 
so  far  as  walking  went.  She  was  a  sweet,  patient 
girl  of  about  eighteen,  who  had  received  a  spinal  in- 
jury during  babyhood  and  had  never  afterward  re- 
gained the  full  use  of  her  lower  limbs.  She  could 
walk  by  hitching  along,  half  supporting  her  frail  body 
with  canes,  and  that  was  all.  Her  one  talent,  out- 
side of  her  uncomplaining  acceptance  of  her  fate,  was 
an  ability  to  draw  and  paint  well,  and  every  fair 
day  found  her  at  it  Myrtle's  first  acquaintance  with 
her  began  in  the  gorge,  into  the  entrance  of  which 
this  crippled  girl  stationed  herself  each  afternoon,  to 
paint  a  picture  of  it  while  the  slanting  sun's  rays 
were  just  as  wanted.  To  Myrtle,  also,  her  art  was 
a  wonderful  one,  and  to  watch  the  growth  of  the 
gorge's  jagged,  moss-coated  wall,  its  overleaning  trees, 
narrow  roadway,  and  cascading  brook  on  canvas,  was 


268  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

a  most  fascinating  occupation.  Then,  too,  Myrtle's 
sympathies  were  aroused  by  this  almost  helpless  girl's 
condition,  and  to  assist  her  going  and  coming  was  an 
imperative  impulse.  Her  first  act  of  kindness  was 
to  take  the  rocking-chair  from  her  own  room  one 
afternoon  and  carry  it  to  this  girl  to  use,  and  return 
to  fetch  it  after  her  work  was  done.  A  little  friend- 
ship soon  sprang  up  between  the  two,  and  while  Myr- 
tle, as  always,  so  far  kept  her  own  history  to  herself 
the  crippled  girl  was  more  than  glad  to  disclose  her 
own  and  explain  her  art  as  well.  Then,  too,  she  had 
a  most  idyllic  nature  and  sympathetic  appreciation 
of  all  that  was  poetic  and  beautiful  in  the  world 
about  her.  To  her  a  laughing  brook  was  a  subject  to 
exclaim  upon  and  its  music  the  sweetest  of  melodies. 
A  bird  singing  in  a  deep  thicket  woke  her  soul,  a 
bunch  of  laurel  flowers  bending  to  kiss  the  brook's 
current  brought  a  rapturous  expression,  and  the 
never-ceasing  whisper  of  the  pines  a  mist  to  her 
eyes.  Such  a  sensitive,  sentimental  soul  in  such  a 
crippled  body  inevitably  appealed  to  poor  lonesome 
Myrtle  as  naught  else  could,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
two  became  firm  friends.  And  then  one  day  an 
incident  occurred  that  added  to  the  bond. 

The  two  were,  as  always  now  on  each  pleasant 
afternoon,  together  in  the  gorge,  the  frail  one  deeply 
intent  on  her  work  and  Myrtle  watching  her,  when 


A    FEW    FRIENDS  269 

one  of  the  usual  quick-rising  mountain-region  show- 
ers came  up.  Neither  noticed  it  until  the  gorge 
began  to  darken  and  a  rumble  of  thunder  warned 
them.  Then  Myrtle  looked  up  to  see  an  ominous 
black  cloud  closing  over  the  gorge.  A  flash  of  light- 
ning came  the  next  instant,  a  roar  of  wind  over  the 
spruce-clad  cliff  far  above  them  followed,  with  the 
quick  patter  of  big  raindrops  in  the  brook  close  by. 
There  was  no  shelter  in  the  gorge,  the  hotel  was  four 
hundred  rods  or  more  away,  and  Myrtle  saw  it  meant 
a  drenching  for  the  crippled  girl  or  else  she  must 
carry  her  to  shelter.  There  was  no  time  to  look 
around  or  discuss  the  matter,  it  was  act  at  once  or  be 
soaked  by  the  downpour,  and  Myrtle,  conscious  of 
her  young,  splendid  strength,  waited  not  for  permis- 
sion but  picked  the  helpless  girl  up,  picture  and  all 
and  started  to  run  for  the  house.  She  was  breath- 
less when  she  reached  shelter  with  her  hundred- 
pound  burden,  just  in  time  and  so  exhausted  that 
she  collapsed  on  the  porch  floor.  But  she  had  saved 
her  new  and  frail  friend  from  an  ice-cold  drenching 
that  might  have  been  serious. 

And  that  night  the  girl's  mother,  (a  proud- 
spirited, southern  woman,  who  looked  upon  "  help  " 
as  her  ancestors  did  upon  slaves)  opened  her  heart  to 
Myrtle. 

"  Please  come  to  my  room  after  your  work  is  done," 


270  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

she  said  to  Myrtle  quite  graciously.  "  I  desire  to 
thank  you  more  properly  for  your  heroism  this  after- 
noon. I  feel  you  may  have  saved  my  child's  life." 

And  poor,  lonely  Myrtle  felt  as  if  a  mother  had 
addressed  her ! 

A  cheerful  fire  blazed  in  Mrs.  Davis's  room,  the 
best  front  one,  when  Myrtle  entered,  for  the  early 
September  evenings  now  needed  it,  that  lady  her- 
self in  richly  embroidered  negligee,  arose  from  the 
depths  of  an  easy  chair  to  meet  her,  her  daughter  also 
advanced  from  another  and  Myrtle  —  merely 
"  help  "  heretofore  —  now  felt  herself  received  as  a 
person  of  consequence. 

And  then  Mrs.  Davis  did  a  most  gracious  thing; 
for  clasping  the  surprised  Myrtle,  she  kissed  her 
once,  twice,  thrice. 

"  To  reward  you  for  your  act  of  love  and  devotion, 
my  dear,"  she  said  quite  tenderly,  "  and  now  draw 
a  chair  up  to  the  fire  and  tell  me  how  you  came  to 
take  so  much  interest  in  my  Virginia,  and  all  about 
yourself." 

When  a  Grande  Dame  unbends  she  does  so  all  over, 
and  this  was  true  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Davis,  daugh- 
ter of  an  Ex-Confederate  Colonel,  and  a  member  of 
one  of  the  "  First  Families  of  Virginia." 

"  I  hear  you  ran  away  from  home  to  secure  work," 
she  continued  resuming  her  seat,  "  and  I  notice  you 


It  was  act  at  once.  —  P(tge  269. 


A   FEW   FRIENDS  271 

always  conduct  yourself  like  a  modest  young  lady 
in  the  dining-room.  Really,  I've  grown  quite  inter- 
ested in  you,  Miss  Stone,  and  wish  to  be  your 
friend." 

"  I  try  to  keep  my  place  and  do  all  I  am  paid  to 
do,"  Myrtle  answered  wishing  she  dared  confide  her 
past  to  this  august  lady.  "  I  am  only  hired  help 
you  know." 

"  So  I  assume,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Davis  graciously, 
"  but  that  is  no  reflection  on  you.  A  lady  can  be 
a  lady  while  serving  in  a  dining-room,  as  well  as 
receiving  in  a  parlor,  and  your  behavior  denotes  the 
inheritance  of  gentility.  I  notice  also  that  you  are 
very  non-communicative.  No  one  here  seems  to  know 
where  you  came  from  or  aught  of  your  past  and  I 
respect  you  for  keeping  your  own  counsel.  Few  in 
this  world  do." 

But  Myrtle  who  had  now  kept  herself  to  herself 
strictly  for  over  seven  weeks  was  not  thawed  out 
easily,  as  Mrs.  Davis  saw,  and,  tactful  woman  that 
she  was,  she  at  once  shifted  her  ground  and  began  to 
relate  something  of  her  own  history  and  how  her 
child  became  crippled.  That  girl's  art  and  its  fasci- 
nation was  next  alluded  to,  how  the  pastime  had  been 
a  blessing,  and  in  what  way. 

By  this  time  Myrtle's  diffidence  began  to  wear 
away  and  she  joined  in  the  conversation  with  ease 


272  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

and  interest.  What  was  said  during  this  first  half- 
hour  of  visit  is  scarce  worth  quoting  and  then  this 
tactful  lady,  having  put  her  caller  at  ease  asked  an 
adroit  question. 

"  Miss  Stone,"  she  said  very  sweetly,  "  I  have  no- 
ticed you  seem  somewhat  superior  to  your  station, 
and  —  pardon  my  personal  interest  in  yourself  — 
but  it  seems  strange  you  should  have  taken  up  table 
work  in  a  hotel.  How  came  you  to  do  so  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Myrtle  hesitated  at  this  direct  ques- 
tion, an  inquiry  she  had  evaded  many  times.  But 
somehow  this  smiling  gracious  lady,  and  the  warm, 
cozy,  homelike  room,  all  invited  confidence  and  she 
was  hungering  for  love  and  sympathy. 

"  I  came  here/'  she  answered  after  a  pause,  "  be- 
cause it  was  the  first  chance  I  had  for  work  after  I 
—  ran  away." 

"  And  so  you  ran  away  from  home,"  queried  Mrs. 
Davis  now  keenly  interested,  "  pray  tell  me  why  did 
you  do  so  ?  " 

"  I  had  to,"  Myrtle  asserted  now  resolving  to  make 
a  clean  breast  of  it.  "  I  never  had  a  father  or 
mother  I  knew,  I  was  brought  up  on  an  island  by 
my  grandfather  and  he  hated  me,  I  had  to  do  only 
dirty  work  at  a  fish  house  most  of  the  time,  never 
had  clothes  fit  to  be  seen  in,  and  he  swore  at  me  and 
whipped  me  sometimes,  so  I  ran  away." 


A   FEW    FKIENDS  273 

"  And  you  never  knew  who  your  mother  was  ? " 
queried  Mrs.  Davis  surmising  the  truth  at  once. 
"  Do  you  know  whether  she  is  living  or  not  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Myrtle,  coloring  and  stammering, 
"I  —  I  only  know  she  ran  away  from  the  island  be- 
cause grandfather  abused  her  and  —  and  —  I  was 
fetched  back  by  —  some  one." 

It  was  all  confessed  now.  The  dread  secret  ex- 
posed, the  skeleton  bared,  and  poor  Myrtle,  the  waif 
and  stray  bowed  her  head  with  shame  and  humilia- 
tion. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you  or  anybody  in  my  life," 
she  added  miserably,  "  and  I  hadn't  ought  to  for  its 
an  awful  thing  to  own  up.  But  I  am  so  lonesome 
here,  I  have  nobody  I  can  trust  and  —  and  I  want 
some  friend." 

"  Indeed  you  do,  my  poor  child,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Davis  warmly,  "  you  need  a  friend  and  a  mother  also 
God  knows,  and  my  heart  goes  out  to  you.  I  have 
for  some  time  surmised  you  were  concealing  a  dark 
past.  Mrs.  Barker  said  as  much,  but  you  need  have 
no  fear,  Virginia  and  I  will  never  betray  your  con- 
fidence, and  when  I  saw  you  bearing  her  to  shelter 
before  the  coming  storm  this  afternoon  I  said  I 
should  befriend  you  for  it  if  I  could,  and  I  shall. 
Now  have  no  fear,  tell  me  all  about  yourself  and  your 
troubles,  my  dear  girl,  and  let  me  be  your  friend." 


274  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

And  then  for  the  first  time,  before  others,  in  seven 
long  weeks  of  self  restraint.  Myrtle  gave  way  to  her 
feelings  and  cried  like  a  child. 

She  recovered  herself  after  a  brief  outburst  of 
tears,  and  then  the  tide  of  confession  and  confidence 
came  forth  in  full  flow  and  for  an  hour  Mrs.  Davis 
and  her  crippled  daughter  sat  spellbound,  while  they 
listened  to  Myrtle's  pitiful  story  and  desperate  flight 
from  Folly  Island.  Sandy  Bay,  the  few  years  at 
school,  her  one  friend,  Cindy,  the  little  flower  gar- 
den, big  playhouse,  and  all  her  hours  of  air  castle 
building  and  meditation  there  were  included.  Her 
barren  and  love-denied  home  life  was  also  described, 
Aunt  Perth  as  well,  and  the  long,  cold  winter  impris- 
onments with  the  sea  forever  moaning  and  bellowing 
were  portrayed  as  only  she  could  portray  them. 
Mark  and  his  influence  and  aid  were  all  she  omitted. 
The  coming  of  this  Prince  Charming  and  the  sweet 
illusion  of  first  love  were  too  sacred  for  admission, 
for  not  even  this  gracious  lady  and  all  Myrtle's  hun- 
gering for  sympathy  and  friendship  could  drag  that 
from  her. 

"  I  feel  so  alone  and  helpless  I  haven't  dared 
trust  any  one,"  she  added  in  conclusion,  "  and  the 
worst  dread  of  all  is  having  the  shame  of  my  birth 
found  out.  I  can  earn  my  living,  I  am  sure,  I 
wouldn't  mind  if  I  had  to  almost  starve,  go  without 


A    FEW    FRIENDS  '  275 

decent  clothes  or  even  be  whipped  again  as  I  once 
was;  but  to  have  folks  learn  I  was  the  hateful  thing 
my  grandfather  often  called  me  —  well,  if  it  was 
known  here  I  should  kill  myself,  that  is  all.  Norah 
has  been  good  to  me  (the  only  one  here  who  has  un- 
til you  were),  Mr.  Barker  has  been  fair  and  kind 
but  Mrs.  Barker  hates  me,  why  I  don't  know  for  I've 
always  behaved  myself,  never  let  men  tag  after  me, 
and  tried  to  earn  my  wages.  Why  is  it,  can  you  tell 
me?" 

"  Oh,  merely  petty  jealousy,  my  dear  child,"  re- 
turned Mrs.  Davis,  smiling  into  Myrtle's  still  teary 
eyes,  "  and  I  wouldn't  notice  or  even  think  of  it  if 
I  were  you.  You  have  the  two  blessings  she  most 
envies,  youth  and  good  looks,  so  let  that  console  you. 
Also,  and  as  long  as  your  conscience  is  clear  and 
you  conduct  yourself  as  I  am  sure  you  do,  rest  as- 
sured she  can't  harm  you.  As  for  the  other  matter 
that  troubles  you,  it  is  largely  an  imaginative  one 
and  were  it  to  become  known  here,  which  is  unlikely, 
it  would  awaken  more  pity  than  contempt,  and  you 
would  still  be  judged  by  your  own  behavior  rather 
than  the  accident  of  your  birth.  I  thank  you,  too, 
for  your  confidence,  Iva  —  you  must  let  me  call  you 
so  now  —  and  you  must  come  to  me  whenever  you 
have  a  spare  hour.  There  is  also  another  favor  I 
ask.  I  noticed  your  best  dress  is  —  is  not  becoming 


276  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

to  you  and  to-morrow  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  storg 
with  me  and  a  dressmaker  and  see  what  I  can  do  for 
you.  They  tell  me  also  you  go  to  early  mass  with 
Norah.  I  hope  it  can  be  arranged  so  you  can  attend 
the  Protestant  Church  with  me  while  we  remain 
here." 

And  that  night  poor  Myrtle  was  so  much  happier 
that  she  could  scarce  go  to  sleep.  One  thing  only 
troubled  her,  her  use  of  an  assumed  name,  but  to 
admit  that  and  her  own,  meant  to  betray  Mark's  con- 
nection with  her  running  away  and  break  her  promise 
as  well,  and  she  could  not  do  that. 

From  this  time  on,  however,  life  at  Conway  Hol- 
low became  an  easier  and  brighter  one  for  Myrtle. 
The  manifest  interest  and  friendship  of  the  wealthy 
and  aristocratic  Mrs.  Davis  for  her,  had  an  occult  in- 
fluence on  Landlord  Barker  and  his  angular  spouse, 
it  was  easily  arranged  for  Myrtle  to  attend  church 
Sunday  mornings,  the  dining-room  service  was  also 
changed  so  that  she  could  serve  her  patroness  and  the 
regular  boarders  instead  of  the  transient  ones,  and 
the  shrewd,  tip-inspiring  Norah,  was  relegated  to  the 
drummers'  tables  and  a  chance  to  garner  their  dimes 
and  quarters.  And  now  occurred  an  amusing  inci- 
dent, for  when  he  of  the  red  necktie  and  loud  rai- 
ment again  appeared,  Norah  was  ready  for  him. 
His  first  move  was  to  lay  a  half-dollar  beside  his 


A    FEW    FEIENDS  277 

plate  as  Norah  came  to  take  his  order  which  she  at 
once  transferred  to  her  apron  pocket. 

"  I  vants  you  to  meet  me  outside  disevenin',  "  he 
then  whispered,  "  und  pring  dot  odder  girl,  te  one 
mit  de  pig  eyes.  I  vill  meets  you  at  de  post  office 
ven  you  say  und  puy  you  candy  und  ice-cream. 
Then  I  vants  you  to  go  back  und  leave  me  to  take  a 
valk  mit  de  odder  girl,  I  vants  to  talk  mit  her  alone 
und  I  give  you  two  dollars  if  you  fix  it.  Vill  you  ?  " 

"  Shure,"  returned  JSTorah  on  the  instant  in  a  quick 
whisper, "  and  she  will  do  just  as  I  say,"  and  then 
she  listened  to  his  order  and  went  to  fetch  it. 

"  It's  all  right,"  she  whispered  again  on  her  re- 
turn, "  shure  we'll  mate  ye  there  jist  after  eight,  but 
I  want  the  two  dollars  now." 

And  she  got  them. 

He  kept  the  appointment  as  a  matter  of  course,  and 
it  took  almost  an  hour  of  watchful  waiting  before  it 
dawned  on  him  he  had  been  duped.  Then  he  said 
things  totally  unfit  for  publication. 

To  add  to  his  chagrin,  Katie  came  to  serve  him 
the  next  morning  and  he  had  sense  enough  to  pee  that 
a  complaint  to  her  would  be  worse  than  ridiculous, 
so  he  made  none  and  went  his  way  a  little  wiser  and 
somewhat  sadder. 

But  Myrtle  unknowingly  shared  in  his  well-de- 
served fine,  for  the  next  morning  she  was  invited  to 


278  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

Norah's  room  where  the  three  girls  ate  their  fill  of 
candy. 

But  the  summer  had  now  passed  at  Conway  Hol- 
low and  the  last  of  September  had  come.  Frosts  had 
nipped  the  Barker  House  garden  and  wilted  the 
flower  beds  in  front.  The  hill-sides  all  around  were 
a  blaze  of  scarlet  and  gold,  the  crippled  girl  could  no 
longer  sit  in  the  gorge  and  paint,  most  of  the  summer 
boarders  had  already  departed  and  Mrs.  Davis  was 
also  preparing  to  journey  southward.  She  and  her 
daughter  had  now  almost  become  mother  and  sister 
to  Myrtle  and  for  scarcely  an  evening  were  they 
apart.  And  then  came  a  climax  to  this  tender  re- 
lation. 

"  We  are  going  away  to-morrow,"  Mrs.  Davis  said 
to  Myrtle  that  evening,  "  and  now,  Iva,  I  have  a 
proposal  to  make  you.  We  need  a  good,  strong,  in- 
telligent and  willing  girl  to  be  a  companion  for  Vir- 
ginia. To  walk  or  ride  with  her,  to  help  her  dress 
and  be  a  lady's  maid  for  her.  My  home  is  closed 
now,  we  shall  board  somewhere  until  my  husband 
returns  from  abroad  in  October,  and  then  I  wish  to 
engage  you  to  come  to  us.  I  will  pay  you  fifty  dol- 
lars a  month  and  give  you  a  pleasant  home.  Will 
you  come  ?  " 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  offer  was  accepted  on 
the  instant  for  by  this  time  Myrtle  would  have 


A    FEW    FEIETTDS  279 

walked  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  serve  this  gracious 
lady  and  kindly  friend. 

"  I  think  you  offer  me  too  much,  however,"  she 
asserted  after  a  moment's  thought.  "  Five  dollars  a 
week,  my  pay  here,  is  enough  and  all  I  ought  to  get. 
I  would  rather  you  made  it  that." 

"  I  feel  what  I  wish  to  pay  is  little  enough,"  Mrs. 
Davis  smiled  in  answer,  "  you  will  need  to  be  dressed 
in  accordance  with  your  station,  so  I  shall  insist  on 
my  proposal.  I  shall  also  advance  you  a  month's 
salary  before  we  go,  leave  you  full  directions  to  fol- 
low when  I  write  you,  trains  you  must  take,  etc.  I 
would  have  you  go  with  us  now  but  you  should  give 
Mr.  Barker  reasonable  notice  and  then,  we  may  visit 
friends  for  the  next  two  weeks." 

Little  did  Mrs.  Davis,  well  used  to  travel,  realize 
how  this  almost  a  thousand-mile  journey  alone  now 
appalled  poor  Myrtle.  But  she  would  not  complain 
or  say  a  word.  A  home  and  future  had  been  offered 
her,  a  bountiful  blessing,  almost,  and  not  by  one  word 
would  she  hint  her  fears. 

One  matter  only  now  oppressed  her  and  that  was 
Mark  and  the  money  she  owed  him.  She  had  it  all 
saved  now,  one  hundred  dollars  in  large  bills  safely 
hid  in  her  bed,  and  in  her  heart  the  faint  hope  still 
that  he  would  yet  find  her.  She  wasn't  so  far  from 
Folly  Island  after  all !  A  day's  journey  would  bring 


280  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

her  to  it  and  why  mightn't  he  possibly  search  for 
her  and  find  her  here  ? 

But  to  go  so  far  away  meant  to  sever  the  last 
chance  for  him  to  find  her. 

And  that  night  she  conquered  her  maidenly  pride, 
wrote  him  a  dignified  missive  recounting  her  escape 
from  Folly  Island  how  long  she  was  to  remain  here 
and  her  future  plans.  Then  she  —  knowing  no 
other  direction  —  addressed  the  letter  to  his  city  only. 

But  it  never  reached  him,  for  a  shift  in  post  office 
clerks  had  occurred,  Mark  growing  hopeless  of  ever 
hearing  from  her  he  had  omitted  to  notify  the  new 
clerk,  and  Myrtle's  missive  finally  landed  where  all 
unclaimed  ones  go. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

INTO  A  QEEAT  CITY 

THE  sun  seemed  to  grow  dim  and  hope  to  vanish 
as  Myrtle  watched  her  two  new  friends  enter  the 
stage  and  depart  from  Conway  Hollow.  They  had 
participated  in  a  tender  parting  that  morning  — 
tearful  on  the  part  of  Myrtle  —  and  then  when  the 
stage  vanished  around  a  bend  she  resumed  her  daily 
duties. 

"  Shure  ye  ought  to  be  smilin',  me  darlin',  so  ye 
had,"  INTorah  asserted,  glancing  at  Myrtle's  eyes, 
"  an'  not  be  sp'ilin'  yer  beauty  wid  wapin'.  Haven't 
ye  made  friends  wid  a  rich  leddy,  got  a  foine  new 
dress  an'  ain't  ye  goin'  where  ye'll  have  a  chance  to 
be  almost  a  leddy  yerself  ?  I  think  you're  in  luck, 
so  I  do." 

But  the  luck,  or  Myrtle's  hopes  of  it  soon  seemed 
to  follow  the  brown  leaves  now  falling  so  rapidly 
from  the  maples  in  front  of  the  Barker  House,  for 
one  week,  then  two  passed,  and  no  letter  from  Mrs. 
Davis,  and  —  worst  cloud  of  all  —  none  from  Mark. 
And  then  Myrtle  began  to  reproach  herself  for  not 

281 


282  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

writing  to  him  sooner.  Also,  and  in  the  light  of 
more  experience  in  the  world's  ways,  how  foolish, 
almost  childish,  she  had  been.  And  now  another  and 
more  mature  idea  came  to  her.  Why  not  go  to  his 
city  or  stop  off  there  on  her  way  south  when  Mrs. 
Davis  sent  for  her  and  hunt  him  up  ?  He  could 
surely  be  found,  she  had  the  best  kind  of  an  excuse,  to 
pay  back  the  money  he  had  said  was  a  loan,  and  then 
he  had  assured  her  he  was  and  wished  to  be  her 
friend  and  protector.  She  would  not  now  feel  any 
indelicacy  in  so  doing,  she  was  not  going  to  him  for 
more  help,  she  had  almost  fifty  dollars  of  her  own 
money,  a  new  dress  she  was  quite  proud  in,  a  good 
situation,  awaiting  her,  she  could  go  to  some  small 
hotel,  hire  a  room  and  next  day  find  his  address  and 
call  at  his  office.  It  all  seemed  so  much  easier  now, 
Folly  Island's  timidity  and  inexperience  were  leav- 
ing her,  and  the  great  world  seemed  a  less  imposing 
realm.  The  more  she  thought  the  plan  over,  the 
more  firmly  she  decided  to  follow  it.  Then  she  be- 
gan to  wonder  if  he  had  received  her  letter,  and  now 
knowing  how  big  a  city  his  was,  to  believe  it  certainly 
had  not  reached  him.  Going  to  that  metropolis  did 
not  now  awe  her  so  much,  either.  By  stage  to  rail- 
road and  train  it  took  just  a  day  to  reach  it,  I^orah 
had  made  the  journey  three  times  already,  (she  came 


A   GREAT    CITY  283 

from  a  smaller  city  near  it),  was  going  home  now  in 
about  three  weeks,  and  so  the  two  began  to  discuss 
plans  together  and  alternate  hopes  and  fears  to  as- 
sail Myrtle.  Her  own  plans  also  now  hinged  upon 
the  expected  summons  from  Mrs.  Davis  and  day  after 
day  she  watched  and  waited  for  it.  She  had  given 
her  present  employer  due  notice  of  her  intent  to 
leave,  two  table  girls  were  all  the  Barker  House 
needed  from  November  to  May  and  while  Landlord 
Barker  would  have  much  preferred  to  keep  Myrtle 
for  one,  now  that  she  was  assured  of  a  better  home 
he  was  glad  for  her  sake.  And  then  after  four 
weeks'  waiting  Myrtle  received  her  expected  letter 
from  Mrs.  Davis.  It  was  more  than  cordial,  it  was 
even  tender,  and  yet  a  sad  blow  for  it  informed  her 
that  Mrs.  Davis  had  changed  her  plans  entirely. 

"  We  are  going  to  take  poor  Virginia  to  Colorado," 
she  wrote,  "  and  try  the  efficacy  of  mineral  baths. 
We  shall  spend  the  winter  there,  return  home  in  the 
spring,  and  then  I  shall  want  you  to  join  us  for  good. 
In  the  meantime  please  remain  where  you  are.  I 
shall  write  you  from  Colorado  and  expect  you  to  an- 
swer soon  and  tell  me  all  about  yourself." 

And  then  Myrtle  sat  down  and  shed  copious  tears. 

Somehow  it  now  dawned  upon  her  also  that  her 
new  lady's  maid  position  was  like  to  fail  her  event- 


284  MYETLE   BAJLDWIIT 

ually,  but  that  was  less  a  trouble  than  to  lose  a  kindly 
friend.  £Torah  was  now  her  sole  refuge  and  to  her 
she  went. 

"  Don't  ye  moind,  darlin' ;  don't  ye  moind,"  that 
optimistic  girl  assured  her,  "  shure  ye're  fifty  dollars 
better  off  than  iver  and  whin  I  lave  for  home  we'll 
go  together.  I  live  in  Auburn,  as  I  didn't  tell  ye, 
it's  not  far  from  the  big  city  where  ye're  sure  o' 
findin'  a  place  in  a  sthore.  That's  more  ladylike  an' 
fitted  to  ye  onaway." 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  a  week  later  that  Myrtle 
with  her  belongings  in  a  new  cheap  trunk  and  Norah 
Cassidy,  with  hers  in  an  old  rope-bound  one,  bade 
good-bye  to  Conway  Hollow  and  started  cityward. 
And  many  a  tender  assurance  of  future  devotion  was 
exchanged  between  these  two  during  that  twelve-hour 
journey,  and  many  a  worldly  wise  bit  of  cautioning 
advice  fell  from  Norah's  lips  as  well. 

"  Wid  your  good  looks,  me  darlin',"  she  said  when 
they  were  nearing  their  journey's  end,  "  ye  kin  git 
a  place  aisy  in  a  big  sthore.  They  won't  pay  ye  more 
than  five  dollars  to  start  wid  but  if  ye  be  smilin'  an' 
ketch  on  ye  kin  git  six  and  siven  soon.  Ye  must 
find  yerself  a  chape  room  to  start  wid,  don't  pay 
over  two-fifty  an'  males'l  be  two  siventy-five  and  thin 
thar's  yer  washin'.  It  won't  lave  ye  a  cint  to  begin, 
moind  that,  but  ye'll  wurrk  up.  Thar's  another 


INTO    A    GREAT    CITY  285 

thing,"  she  added  more  confidentially,  "  an'  that  is 
fellys.  Don't  thrust  'em  a  minnit.  They'll  flatther 
ye  till  yer  head  is  shwelled,  want  ye  to  go  out  aitin' 
wid  'em,  then  to  shows,  more  aitin'  an*  wine  wid  that. 
I  know  'em,  but  don't  ye  do  it,  darlin',  don't  ye  do  it, 
they're  all  alike  an'  mane  bad  by  ye." 

When  the  rocking,  rushing  train  had  sped  on  until 
darkness  began  to  hide  the  landscape  it  then  slowed 
down,  a  brakeman  thrust  his  head  into  their  car 
door,  yelled  "  Obun,  Obun,  next  stop  Obun,"  and  the 
moment  for  parting  had  come. 

"  Come  out  to  see  me  Sunday  inny  toime  thar  do 
be  trains,"  Norah  then  said  rising,  "  its  Thirty-siven 
River  Sthrate  I  live,  an'  ye're  welcome.  Kape  a 
stiff  upper  lip  too,  my  darlin',  an'  if  ye  git  stuck  ax 
a  policeman,"  and  with  this  final  caution  the  two  em- 
braced, kissed,  kissed  again,  and  Norah,  the  honest, 
big-hearted,  keen-witted  Irish  maid,  joined  the  out- 
going passengers. 

Once  before  Myrtle  had  looked  out  of  a  car  win- 
dow to  catch  the  last  view  of  a  friendly  face  through 
mist-filled  eyes,  now  tears  came  while  she  watched 
for  Norah's  and  failed  to  see  it. 

Another  half-hour  of  the  roaring  on-rush  while 
twinkling  lights  sped  by  the  window,  then  a  halt,  a 
start  and  the  train  rolled  slowly  into  a  monstrous 
covered  station,  and,  hand-bag  in  hand,  Myrtle  be- 


286  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

came  a  lonely,  lonesome,  trembling  unit  among  the 
stream  of  arriving  humanity.  It  was  also  her  lot 
to  be  bumped  against,  jostled,  crowded  in  the  rush 
of  people  who  at  such  a  moment  forget  every  civility 
of  life  in  a  mad  effort  to  act  solely  for  self.  Once 
outside  the  station  she  was  confronted  by  a  narrow 
street  packed  full  of  moving  vans,  wagons,  hacks, 
and  trolley  cars.  Just  across  an  electric  sign  blinked 
the  letters  "  Fox  Ale  "  with  half-minute  interims ; 
to  the  left  another  of  those,  a  fiery  serpent  (typical 
emblem)  darted  around  the  blazing  words  "  Hunter's 
Whiskey  " ;  while  to  the  right,  below,  and  from  every 
vantage  point,  some  other  winking,  blinking  alternat- 
ing sign  was  flashing.  A  rumbling  roar  of  sound 
stunned  her  senses,  she  felt  she  had  stepped  into  a 
glaring,  shouting  bedlam;  an  inferno  of  sound  and 
mad  humanity.  Four  months  previous  she  would 
have  fainted  from  fright;  now  she  stood  trembling 
in  abject  fear.  Then  a  rush  of  outcoming  people  al- 
most crowded  her  off  the  sidewalk,  one  man  bumped 
against  her,  another  swore  at  her,  and  then,  just  as 
she  was  about  to  scream  from  fright  she  saw  a  burly, 
blue-coated  policeman  two  rods  away,  and  Norah's 
words  came  to  her. 

"  Oh,  mister  man,"  she  said,  pushing  up  to  him, 
"  won't  you  please  help  me.  I  want  to  go  to  some 
hotel." 


INTO    A    GBEAT    CITY  287 

"  Shure,  leddy,"  he  answered  gallantly  smiling 
into  her  scared  face,  "  come  wid  me,  I'll  show  ye," 
and  never  before  was  Myrtle  so  glad  to  again  hear 
Norah's  Irish  brogue.  And  be  it  said,  ever  after- 
wards that  Celtic  pronunciation  always  sounded  like 
music  to  her. 

Then  he  seized  her  by  the  arm,  almost  dragged  her 
through  the  crowd  to  a  crossing,  waved  his  baton  to 
team-drivers  and  once  across  the  street  halted. 

"  What  hotel  do  yez  want,  leddy,"  he  then  asked, 
"  a  high-priced  wan  or  jist  ony  wan  ?  " 

"  I  want  a  safe  one,"  she  answered  still  trembling, 
"  where  I  can  get  a  room." 

Whether  it  was  her  voice,  her  eyes,  or  look  of  ab- 
ject fear  that  now  won  his  heart  on  the  instant  will 
never  be  known,  but  something  did  for  he  again 
grasped  her  arm  and  led  her  on  up  the  street,  then 
to  left,  to  right  and  into  a  ten-story  hostelry. 

"  This  leddy  wants  a  room,"  he  then  half  de- 
manded striding  up  to  the  marble  counter  as  if  he 
owned  the  earth.  "  She's  a  sthranger  here,  she  is, 
so  trate  her  right,"  and  with  a  toss  of  his  head  as  if 
that  settled  it,  he  turned  and  left  her. 

"  A  two,  two-fifty  or  three  dollar  one,"  queried 
the  clerk,  his  voice  shading  from  grandiloquence  to 
polite  inquiry  as  he  whirled  the  register  around  and 
handed  her  a  pen. 


288  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

"  A  two-dollar  one,  please/'  she  answered  and  then 
managed  to  write  "  Iva  Stone  "  in  trembling  hand 
on  the  register. 

"  Two  dollars,  please,"  he  echoed  in  more  mel- 
lifluous tone  and  then  Myrtle  stared  at  him  not  un- 
derstanding. 

"  Two  dollars  and  pay  now,"  he  added  and  then 
she  grasped  the  situation,  opened  her  bag  and  paid. 
A  bell  was  banged,  an  ebon-faced  boy  made  a  grab  for 
her  bag  but  failed  to  get  it,  she  followed  him  to  an  ele- 
vator, was  shot  up  nine  stories,  shown  to  a  twelve- 
by-eight  room  and  left  alone. 

And  now  for  the  first  time  since  she  parted  from 
Norah  did  poor  scared  Myrtle  feel  that  she  was  safe 
for  the  moment. 

But  it  took  a  good  half-hour  before  she  got  over 
trembling. 

Then  she  began  to  realize  that  she  was  hungry. 
But  to  go  down  and  out  of  that  monster  building  now 
and  into  the  horrible  bedlam  again  alone,  she  dared 
not,  even  if  starving,  and  so  a  prisoner,  almost,  she 
remained  in  her  cell.  Neither  did  she  feel  like  sleep 
now  though  faint  and  weary,  for  the  roar  and  rum- 
ble of  the  great  city  reached  even  up  to  her  top-floor 
and  one-window  den,  and  so  she  sat  down  and  looked 
out  upon  it. 

And  what  a  vast  expanse  of  twinkling  lights  and 


INTO    A    GBEAT   CITY  289 

new  wonder-world  it  now  seemed!  From  Sandy 
Bay  to  Conway  Hollow  had  been  surprising,  the 
towns  she  caught  glimpses  of  from  the  rushing  train 
had  awed  her  from  their  increased  size,  now  she  was 
almost  numb  from  utter  astonishment  at  the  miles 
of  blinking  lights  and  all-sized  buildings  surround- 
ing her.  And  in  the  morning  when  she  started  out 
to  obey  JSTorah's  first  order  and  find  a  room,  this 
vastness  assailed  her  even  more.  Which  way  to  go 
or  which  way  she  did  go  she  had  no  idea.  She  merely 
followed  one  street  and  then  another  until  gradually 
the  buildings  became  less  imposing  and  she  saw 
signs  of  "  Room  to  let "  in  windows.  And  even 
these  abodes  now  seemed  too  grand  for  her  to  seek 
shelter  in  and  not  until  hours  of  wandering  brought 
her  to  ordinary  two-  and  three-story  brick  houses  did 
she  dare  apply  at  one.  A  shock  awaited  her  at  the 
first  for  a  hard-faced  woman  met  her  at  the  door  and 
a  curt  "  We  do  not  let  rooms  to  girls  "  with  a  closing 
of  it  the  next  moment  was  all  the  answer  she  got. 
Two  more  on  that  street  seemed  run  on  the  same 
"  men  only  "  basis  and  going  onto  another  one  and 
trying  again  Myrtle  met  a  curious  experience.  A 
portly  negress  met  her  at  the  door  and  in  response  to 
her  timid  inquiry  for  a  room  said  "  Why  ob  cose  you 
kin  git  one  here,  honey,  come  in  an*  see  de  missus." 
Myrtle  was  then  ushered  into  a  gorgeously  furnished 


290  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

parlor,  a  middle-aged  woman  with  unduly  red  lips, 
white  complexion,  yellow  hair,  many  wrinkles,  and 
garbed  in  a  blue  wrapper  soon  entered  and  Myrtle 
rose  to  meet  her. 

"  You  want  a  room  I  understand,"  she  said  smil- 
ing at  Myrtle  with  sinister  eyes.  "  I  guess  we  can 
take  care  of  you." 

"  I  am  so  glad  if  I  can  find  a  room,"  Myrtle  an- 
swered, "  I've  tried  at  five  or  six  houses  and  they 
only  let  rooms  to  men." 

"  Well,  I  only  take  in  girls,"  the  woman  responded 
sweetly,  and  watching  her  caller,  "  I  can  give  you  a 
room.  Where  are  you  from  ?  " 

"  I  came  from  —  from  Conway  Hollow,"  Myrtle 
stammered,  "  I  am  going  to  find  work  in  a  store." 

"  I  guess  you  can  do  that  my  dear,"  came  the  fa- 
miliar answer,  "  girls  with  your  shape  are  always  in 
demand." 

"  How  much  are  your  rooms,"  Myrtle  next 
queried  surprised  at  this  speech,  "  I  cannot  pay  over 
two  dollars  and  a  half  a  week." 

"  Oh,  'most  any  price  you  wish  to  pay,"  the  woman 
responded,  "  sit  down  and  we  will  talk  it  over." 
Then  she  also  seated  herself  near  and  touched  a  bell 
on  a  tiny  onyx  table.  "  Bring  some  sherry,  Chloe," 
she  next  directed  to  the  negress  who  answered  the 
bell,  "  this  lady  is  tired  and  needs  a  glass  of  wine. 


INTO    A    GEEAT    CITY  291 

And  so  you  are  from  Conway  Hollow,  my  dear,"  she 
continued  again  addressing  Myrtle,  "  have  you  any 
friends  in  this  city  ?  " 

"  ISTo,"  returned  Myrtle  wondering  why  this  almost 
ghastly-faced  lady  took  such  a  sudden  interest  in 
her,  "  I  don't  know  anybody  here.  I  came  last 
night  to  look  for  work." 

"  Well  then,  I  will  help  you  to-morrow,"  the 
woman  returned,  again  smiling  at  Myrtle,  "  so  now 
take  off  your  hat  and  make  yourself  at  home.  How 
would  you  like  a  position  with  me  as  house-maid,"  she 
added,  "  just  waiting  on  company  ?  I  need  a  pretty 
girl  like  you  and  will  pay  good  wages." 

In  an  instant  Myrtle  recalled  Mrs.  Davis  and 
then  glanced  around  the  luxuriously  appointed  room. 
"I  —  I  might,"  she  hazarded,  "  how  much  wages 
will  you  pay  ?  " 

"  Oh,  eight  or  ten  dollars  a  week,"  the  woman  an- 
swered indifferently.  "  I  am  not  particular  as  to 

» 

that.  Have  a  glass  of  wine,"  she  added  pouring  one 
from  the  decanter  the  negress  had  now  brought, 
"  and  tell  me  your  name  and  all  about  yourself." 

"  I  never  drank  wine  in  my  life,"  Myrtle  answered 
unconscious  of  the  trap  set  for  her,  or  that  in  that 
wine  glass  a  tiny  portion  of  white  powder  had  been 
placed.  "  I  thank  you,  but  I  must  refuse  it." 

"  As  you  wish,  my  dear,"  the  woman  responded 


MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

sweetly,  pouring  another  and  drinking  it,  "  and  now 
what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Iva  Stone,"  replied  Myrtle  directly. 

"A  very  pretty  name  too,"  smiled  the  woman, 
"  and  quite  romantic.  Have  you  ever  had  a  lover, 
my  dear?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  Myrtle  returned  firmly  and  color- 
ing, "  I  never  have." 

"  Not  a  little  one  at  school,"  the  woman  continued 
suavely,  "  just  a  nice  boy  who  kissed  you  a  few 
times  ? " 

And  then  a  curious  thing  happened  for  out  from 
behind  a  portiere  enclosing  another  room  came  a 
suppressed  giggle  and  glancing  that  way  Myrtle  saw 
the  edge  of  a  girl's  face  quickly  withdrawn  and  in  an 
instant  knew  that  she  had  been  watched  by  some  one. 

"I  guess  I  —  I  don't  want  to  stay  here,"  she 
stammered,  rising  and  starting  for  the  street  door. 

"  Oh,  yes  you  do,"  the  woman  returned  firmly, 
also  rising,  "  I  want  you." 

But  the  now-scared  girl  was  ahead  of  her,  she 
reached  the  knob  first,  as  luck  would  have  it  seized  the 
right  knob,  opened  the  door  and  darted  into  the 
street. 

And  she  never  realized  how  narrow  an  escape  she 
had  had,  or  into  what  a  den  of  infamy  she  had  blun- 
dered. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

COMMOTION   AT    CONWAY   HOLLOW 

A  WEEK  after  Myrtle's  departure  John  Barker 
happened  into  the  post  office  one  day  and  saw  staring 
him  in  the  face  on  its  wall  the  following  placard  in 
bold  type. 

"  ONE  HUNDRED  DOLLARS  REWARD 

"  Will  be  paid  for  information  of  the  whereabouts 
of  a  young  girl  named  Iva  Stone  or  Myrtle  Baldwin 
formerly  from  Folly  Island.  Said  young  lady  is  of 
medium  height,  well-formed,  has  large  dark  eyes,  and 
may  be  passing  under  another  name.  The  above  re- 
ward will  be  promptly  paid  to  any  one  who  first  in- 
forms the  subscriber  of  her  present  location. 

"  Address  MARK  MASON,  Box  ." 

"  Wai,  I  swow,"  ejaculated  Landlord  Barker,  "  ef 
that  ain't  our  purty  table-gal  I'm  a  goat!  By 
crimus,"  he  added  gasping  for  breath,  "  I  knew  the 
minute  I  sot  eyes  on  her  thar  was  a  coon  in  the  hay- 
mow! An'  she  was  purty,  too,  danged  if  I  wa'n't 

293 


294  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

in  love  with  her  myself  in  spite  o'  Abigail!  Je-ru- 
se-lem  but  I  must  have  that  hundred  dollars/'  and  he 
tore  the  poster  from  the  wall  and  started  on  a  run 
for  the  hotel.  He  wrote  part  of  his  letter  wondering 
if  any  one  in  the  town  had  forestalled  him ;  and  then 
paused  for  all  he  could  state  —  or  had  stated  —  was 
that  she  had  been  in  his  employ  three  months.  Then 
letter  in  hand  he  sought  Katie  in  the  kitchen. 

"  Whar  does  Norah  Cassidy  live,  'n'  whar  did  that 
Stone  gal  go  to  'tother  day,"  he  demanded  of  her. 

"  Shure  I  don't  know,"  Katie  answered  astonished. 
"  Norah  come  from  Auburn  she  towld  me  once,  an' 
that's  all  I  know." 

"  Was  Miss  Stone  going  thar  or  where,"  he  next 
queried  hurriedly.  "  I  want  to  find  whar  she  is  at 
once." 

"  Begorra  I  can't  tell  ye  thin,  she  was  that  close 
ye  cud  niver  get  a  wurrd  out  of  her.  I  belave  that 
leddy,  Mrs.  Davis,  wid  the  lame  gal,  hired  her  fer 
a  leddy's  maid,  so  I  was  towld  be  Norah." 

It  wasn't  satisfactory  but  it  was  some  information 
and  John  Barker  now  added  it  to  his  letter,  ad- 
dressed and  posted  it  and  then  sought  his  particular 
crony,  Bela  Griggs,  who  kept  the  chief  grocery  store 
and  market  in  Conway  Hollow.  By  this  time  he 
had  also  cooled  off  a  little  and  resolved,  as  he  would 
say  to  "  keep  whist." 


"  Ef  that  ain't  our   purty  table-gal   I'm  a  goat!"  —  Page  293. 


COMMOTION    AT    CONWAY    HOLLOW  295 

"  Curis  thing,  Bela,"  he  ejaculated  entering  the 
store,  "  'bout  that  gal  I  had  this  summer.  She  lit 
out  a  week  ago  'n'  I  want  to  find  whar  she's  gone 
'n'  can't.  Naow  I  think  my  table  gal  Katie  knows 
'n'  won't  tell.  Can't  you  git  your  team  boy  —  he's 
kinder  sweet  on  Katie, —  can't  you  git  him  to  pump 
Katie  'n'  find  if  she  knows  whar  she's  gone?  I'd 
give  a  fiver  to  find  out." 

"Wai,  mebbe,"  drawled  Bela,  "what's  in  the 
wind  ? " 

"  I  am,"  chuckled  Barker,  "  'n'  its  blowin'  purty 
smart,  you  just  find  out  whar  that  Stone  gal's  gone 
somehow  from  Kate  or  anybody  'n'  the  fiver  is 
yourn."  Then  having  launched  this  search  warrant 
he  hastened  out  and  to  the  post  office  again. 

"  Who  brung  that  notice  'bout  the  reward  for  a 
gal,"  he  next  demanded  of  Colby  Stoddard,  P.  M. 
and  peering  into  the  general  delivery  window,  "  the 
one  offerin'  a  hundred  dollars  fer  her  ? " 

"  Why  it  cum  in  the  mail,"  Colby  answered  as- 
tonished, "  cum  'bout  four  days  ago  'n  I  stuck  it  up." 

"And  didn't  read  it?" 

"  Tas  I  read  it,"  Colby  rejoined  staring  at  him, 
"  why  what's  up  ?  'Twant  'bout  nobody  I  knew 
or  ever  heard  on." 

"  No,  o'  course  not,"  returned  Barker  suavely, 
"  'Taint  nobody  I  know  'bout  either.  I  jist  read  it 


296  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

and  thought  I'd  ask  that's  all,"  and  having  satisfied 
himself  that  the  secret  was  mainly  his  so  far,  he 
stalked  out  of  the  office. 

But  it  wasn't  his  long  for  others  had  read  the 
strange  notice,  Bela  told  the  next  customer  (a 
woman),  John  Barker  had  "  gone  crazy  he  guessed  " 
over  one  of  his  table  girls,  Iva  Stone,  this  woman 
.  told  a  neighbor  who  happened  to  have  read  the  poster 
and  now  recalled  who  Iva  Stone  was  and  before  night 
all  Conway  Hollow  knew  that  a  reward  was  offered 
for  her. 

But  the  said  poster  was  safe  in  John  Barker's 
pocket  —  shrewd  Yankee  that  he  was  —  so  the  vital 
part  of  the  matter  was  his  as  yet. 

But  Conway  Hollow  now  experienced  a  sensation 
the  like  of  which  it  had  never  known  before,  for  this 
girl's  beauty  had  been  noticed  and  commented  upon 
by  one  and  all,  the  peculiar  way  he  found  her  had 
been  admitted  by  John  Barker,  her  almost  unique 
secretiveness  also  discussed  and  told  by  his  boarders 
had  spread  over  the  town  and  now  everybody  there 
was  agog  over  the  choice  bit  of  gossip. 

And  in  just  four  days  Mark  Mason  arrived  post 
haste. 

"  Where  is  John  Barker,"  he  demanded  of  Mrs. 
Barker  who  happened  to  be  in  the  office  when  he  ar- 
rived, "  I  want  to  see  him  at  once." 


COMMOTION    AT    CONWAY    HOLLOW  297 

"  He's  out  in  the  barn/'  she  answered  scared  a  lit- 
tle by  Mark's  peremptory  manner,  "  I'll  go  'n'  fetch 
him,"  and  with  fear  of  sheriff's  writs  or  similar  trou- 
bles in  mind  she  hurried  out  to  inform  her  spouse. 

"  Thar's  a  man  in  the  office  wants  ye  quick,  John," 
she  asserted  to  him,  "  he  near  snapped  my  head  off ! 
What's  up,  hev  ye  ben  gittin'  into  trouble  ? "  she 
added  anxiously. 

But  John  didn't  wait  to  explain  and  hastened  to 
the  office. 

It  is  also  small  wonder  that  Mark  was  excited 
even  to  the  verge  of  almost  insolent  speech,  for  this 
was  the  first  direct  news  of  the  girl  he  was  now  madly 
in  love  with,  received  in  almost  four  months.  And 
it  wasn't  much  when  he  got  it  from  the  astonished 
landlord,  only  an  enlargement  of  his  letter  and  recital 
of  how  he  found  and  hired  Iva  Stone. 

There  were  other  people,  too,  in  the  office  during 
the  telling,  a  couple  of  traveling  men  and  three 
boarders  awaiting  supper,  Mrs.  Barker  of  course, 
and  Katie  who  having  no  one  to  serve,  also  peeped  in. 
And  somehow  their  hearts  all  went  out  to  this  bold, 
assertive  young  man  who  appeared  not  to  care  one 
whit  if  the  whole  town  knew  he  was  in  love  with  this 
fair  table  girl!  And  yet  they  were  wrong. 

"  I  am  more  than  disappointed  you  can't  give  me 
a  clue  to  where  she  has  gone,"  Mark  declared  after 


298  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

the  meagre  facts  were  related  by  Barker.  "  I've 
been  hunting  far  and  wide  for  this  young  lady,  have 
advertised  in  fully  fifty  papers,  and  as  a  last  resort, 
by  the  advice  of  a  keen-witted  woman,  sent  my  notice 
of  reward  to  over  five  hundred  postoffices." 

"  Wai,  ye  scored  inside  the  ring  anyhow,"  an- 
swered Barker,  sympathetically,  "  not  a  bull's  eye  but 
ye  got  a  rise  anyway.  Eow  ye  best  go  eat  some  sup- 
per 'n'  arter  that  we'll  git  —  wal  I'll  tell  ye  later," 
and  Mark,  feeling  hope  of  success  was  a  little 
brighter,  betook  himself  to  the  dining  room. 

And  Katie,  who  waited  upon  him,  not  only  served 
him  the  best  the  house  afforded  in  bountiful  supply 
but  watched  him  with  admiring  eyes  while  he  ate  it 
—  and  found  a  half-dollar  under  his  plate  later  on. 
A  romance  to  her  "  Kathleen  Mavourneen  "  heart  was 
like  sunshine  to  a  bed  of  spring  violets. 

Mark  also  during  that  silent  meal  bethought  him- 
self of  the  need  of  prudent  speech  and  that  everyone 
here  would  inevitably  try  to  obtain  from  him  all  of 
Myrtle's  past  history  —  a  sacred  trust,  he  now  felt. 
How  much  she  had  already  disclosed  he  knew  not, 
that  would  appear  later,  until  then  his  lips  must  be 
sealed.  And  now  returning  to  the  office  a  surprise 
awaited  him,  quite  typical  of  a  country  village  for 
two  dozen  men  and  boys  had  already  gathered  there 


COMMOTION    AT    CONWAY    HOLLOW  299 

and  more  were  coming  in  each  moment!  The  news 
of  his  arrival  and  its  reason  had  spread ! 

But  John  Barker  was  equal  to  the  situation. 

"  We'll  go  up  to  my  den  —  upstairs,  Mr.  Mason," 
he  said  in  a  master-of -ceremonies  tone,  "  'n'  talk  this 
matter  over  kinder  private  like,"  and  some  of  the 
crowd  felt  like  scalping  him. 

"  I  s'posed,  Mr.  Mason,"  he  continued  when  this 
retreat  was  entered  and  the  door  closed,  "  that  you'd 
want  to  hear  all  'bout  this  gal  an'  not  have  it  a  public 
lecture,  ez  it  war." 

"  Most  assuredly,"  returned  Mark,  thankful  for 
his  consideration,  "  for  having  to  advertise  this  young 
lady  so  was  galling  enough,  I  assure  you." 

And  then  John  Barker  began  his  recital  over 
again.  How  he  first  came  to  notice  Myrtle  on  the 
train  and  where  she  carried  her  money;  how  scared 
she  acted,  how  he  came  to  accost  her  and  its  out- 
come, was  all  told  in  detail  while  Mark  smoked  and 
listened  as  only  a  lover  will. 

"  She  was  the  clusest  gal  I  ever  run  across,"  John 
Barker  continued,  "  I'm  fair  to  middlin'  on  pumpin' 
folks  but  I  jest  couldn't  git  a  word  outen  her  only 
that  she'd  run  away  frum  some'ess  'n'  wanted  a  job. 
She  was  kinder  keen  too,  held  off  sorter  indifferent 
till  I'd  bid  up  my  own  figger  a  little.  But  she  arned 


300  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

all  she  got  'n'  more  fer  I  never  had  a  table-gal  like 
her.  Up  arly  'n'  hustlin'  all  the  time,  makin'  the 
dinin'  room  look  slicker  'n'  a  parlor  with  posies  on 
the  tables  'n'  never  a  smile  or  word  could  the  drum- 
mers git  out'n  her.  I  s'pose  ye  know  what  drum- 
mers is,"  he  added,  unconscious  that  Mark  had  been 
one  many  years,  "  allus  makin'  eyes  at  every  purty 
table-gal  an'  tryin'  to  mash  her  ?  But  they  got  left 
on  Iva,  Miss  Stone  I  mean,  she  wouldn't  even  look 
at  one  on  'em.  Thar  was  one,  name  o'  Epstein, 
feller  that  sells  laces  'n'  sich  fol-de-rols,  wal,  he  got 
so  daffy  on  her  he  give  Norah,  one  o'  the  other  gals 
then,  two  dollars  to  git  her  out  to  meet  him,  but  it 
didn't  work,  not  fer  a  minit.  I  s'pose,  too,  that  gen- 
tleman from  Jerusalem  hain't  got  over  mournin'  fer 
them  two  plunks  yit, —  they're  built  that  way." 

"  But  where  do  you  imagine  she  has  gone  ? "  in- 
terrupted Mark  more  anxious  to  solve  this  riddle 
than  to  hear  gossip  about  drummers.  "  Didn't  she 
tell  anyone  a  word  about  her  future  plans  ?  " . 

"  Nary  a  peep,  only  one  o'  my  boarders  a  Mrs. 
Davis  from  down  South  let  on  to  my  wife  she'd  en- 
gaged Iva,  Miss  Stone,  I  should  say,  to  come  'n'  be 
lady's  maid  for  her  arter  she  got  through  here.  Was 
to  give  her  fifty  a  month  'n'  stiddy  job." 

"  But  you  said  you  didn't  know  where  she  had 
gone,"  broke  in  Mark  eagerly,  "  now,  she  must  have 


COMMOTION    AT    CON  WAY    HOLLOW  301 

gone  to  this  woman's  home ;  where  was  she  from  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Wheelin',  Virginny,"  asserted  Barker  on  the 
instant,  "  only  I  don't  think  she  did.  Norah  let  on 
to  Katie  'fore  she  left  that  that  was  all  off.  Norah 
was  alus  clus-mouthed  too,  an'  she  'n'  Iva  was  good 
friends.  She,  Norah  I  mean,  got  Iva  to  go  to  Cath- 
olic meetin',  convarted  her  I  s'pose,  'n'  so  o'  course 
wouldn't  tell  on  her." 

"  But  who  is  Norah  and  where  is  she  now  ?  "  que- 
ried Mark  anxiously. 

"  Wai,  she  come  from  Auburn,  I  believe.  I  got 
her  through  an  ad  for  table  gals  last  spring." 

"  What's  her  other  name  ?  " 

"  Cassidy,  Xorah  Cassidy." 

"  And  this  Norah  never  told  anyone  her  plans 
either,  that's  curious.  Didn't  she  tell  this  other  girl 
of  yours  ? " 

"  I  cal'late  not,"  drawled  Barker,  "  or  she'd  a 
leaked  it.  She,  Katie,  ain't  clus  like  Norah  was,  'n' 
they  wa'n't  the  best  o'  friends  on  that  account. 
Katie  was  kinder  jealous  o'  Norah  'cause  she  got  the 
most  tips  outen  the  drummers  a'  they  scrapped  over 
my  stable  man." 

"  Can't  we  have  a  talk  with  this  Katie,"  put  in 
Mark  anxious  to  obtain  all  the  information  possible 
at  once.  "  Can't  she  come  up  here  and  let  me  talk 
to  her?" 


302  MTKTLE   BALDWIN 

"  Sartinly,"  responded  Barker  rising  and  Katie 
was  summoned. 

"  Well,  my  good  girl,"  began  Mark  pleasantly  as 
soon  as  Katie  was  seated  before  the  two  men,  "  can 
you  tell  us,  or  have  you  any  idea  where  "Miss  Stone 
went  with  Norah  ?  Was  she  going  to  her  home  or 
to  that  of  Mrs.  Davis  ?  " 

"  I  don't  be  thinkin'  she  meant  to  go  to  ayther," 
Katie  answered  bluntly.  "  Shure  Norah  couldn't 
kape  her  an'  the  leddy,  Mrs.  Davis,  put  her  off  fer 
the  prisint.  Thar  was  some  secret  bechune  these  two, 
Norah  an7  Miss  Stone,  an'  I  warn't  let  into  it  onct." 

"  But  you  knew  where  this  Norah  lived  in  Auburn, 
her  street  and  number,  didn't  you,"  queried  Mark 
anxiously. 

"  No,  I  did'nt,  sor,"  returned  Katie  in  hurt  tone, 
"  jist  Auburn,  sor,  that  was  all  she  iver  towld  me." 

"  An'  thar  ye  be,"  added  Barker  meaning  to  be 
consoling,  "  up  against  two  gals  who  had  sense 
enough  to  keep  their  business  to  themselves." 

"  So  I  observe,"  returned  Mark  ruefully,  "  and  all 
the  worse  for  me.  I  can  find  this  Norah  Cassidy 
easy  enough,  I  presume,  only  I  want  to  save  time. 

"  And  now,  my  girl,"  he  added  again  addressing 
Katie,  "  tell  me  where  you  think  Miss  Stone  meant 
to  go?  What  sort  of  employment  she  would  natu- 
rally look  for  ? " 


COMMOTION    AT    CONWAY    HOLLOW  303 

"  I  think  she  wanted  to  be  a  leddy,  sor,"  Katie  an- 
swered candidly,  "  an'  she  was  fitted  for  that  in  her 
ways,  so  nate  a'  wantin'  flowers  iverywhere.  I  think, 
sor,  if  ye'd  pardon  me,  she  was  desavin'  us  whin  she 
said  it  was  all  off  wid  Mrs.  Davis.  Norah  said  onct, 
an'  all  she  iver  towld  me,  that  Miss  Stone  belaved 
some  man  was  like  to  folly  her  here  an'  arrist  her 
maybe.  I  think  so  too,  sor,  for  she  was  always  that 
scart." 

"  An'  thar  ye  be  agin,"  interrupted  Barker,  "  I 
said  at  the  start  there  was  a  nigger  in  the  woodpile 
'n'  I  think  so  still.  You  can  go  now,  Katie,"  he 
added,  glancing  at  Mark,  "  if  Mr.  Mason  has  no 
more  questions  to  ask." 

And  as  none  were  forthcoming  Katie  left  the  room 
more  mystified  than  ever. 

"  And  now,"  continued  Barker,  "  if  you  was  wil- 
lin'  to  'low  how  Miss  Stone  felt  towards  you,  mebbe 
I  kin  make  a  guess  whar  she's  gone  ?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  Mark  slowly,  realizing  that  he 
must  now  make  a  partial  admission  of  his  own  feel- 
ings, "  there  are  some  very  peculiar  facts  in  connec- 
tion with  Miss  Stone's  past  life  —  no  reflection  I 
mean  —  but  facts  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  disclose.  I 
knew  where  she  ran  away  from  and  why,  I  gave  her 
the  means  to  do  so,  and  advised  her  to  use  the  name 
Iva  Stone,  wrote  her  where  to  meet  me  and  in  that 


304  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

letter  a  proposal  of  marriage  as  well.  It  never 
reached  her  as  I've  learned,  she  ran  away  in  a  fit  of 
desperation,  she  can't  have  learned  I've  advertised 
for  her  or  she'd  write  me  and  so  you  see  the  compli- 
cation. Also  as  you  said  that  I  am  up  against  it.  I 
am,  and  a  brick  wall  at  that." 

"  Norah's  your  only  hope  then,"  responded  Barker 
consolingly,  "  or  it's  barely  possible  she  may  have 
written  this  Mrs.  Davis  'bout  her  plans.  I  know  she 
put  Iva,  Miss  Stone,  I  mean,  off  somehow  fer  she  had 
a  cryin'  spell  arter  the  letter  came.  My  idea  is 
you'd  best  chase  Norah  an'  not  let  any  grass  grow 
under  your  feet,  either." 

And  so  it  now  seemed  to  Mark. 

Another  touch  of  the  trite  truism  that  all  the 
world  loves  a  lover  was  disclosed  the  next  morning 
when  Mark  paid  his  bill. 

"  I  am  going  to  give  you  fifty  dollars  toward  the 
reward  now,  Mr.  Barker,"  he  said  counting  out  the 
money,  "  and  when  I  find  Miss  Stone  I'll  send  you 
check  for  balance." 

"  I  won't  take  a  damn  cent,"  John  Barker  an- 
swered bluntly,  half  hurt  by  the  proposal,  "  you  jest 
find  your  sweetheart,  git  hitched,  come  up  here  on 
your  weddin'  tower  an'  I'll  make  it  pleasant  fer  ye, 
bet  yer  boots !  " 

And  when  Mark  left  Conway  Hollow  the  key  of 


COMMOTION    AT    CONWAY    HOLLOW  305 

his  happiness  seemed  hidden  in  the  city  of  Auburn. 

But  John  Barker,  whose  vinegar-tempered  spouse 
had  nagged  him  for  many  years,  now  obtained  some 
consolation  and  rubbed  it  into  her  as  only  he  could. 

"  Wai,  Abigail,"  he  drawled  slowly  after  the  lum- 
bering stage  had  started  and  stroking  his  chin-whis- 
kers, "  I  s'pose  ye've  heered  'bout  barkin'  up  the 
wrong  tree  'n'  bakin'  'fore  your  oven's  hot,  hain't 
ye?" 

"  I  dunno  what  ye  mean,  John  Barker,"  she 
snapped,  conscious  that  she  was  about  to  receive  what 
she  would  call  "  a  hetcheling." 

"  Oh,  yas  ye  do,  yas  ye  do,"  John  returned,  his 
eyes  twinkling,  "  when  that  poor  gal  landed  here  ye 
treated  her  wuss'n  a  cur  dog  ye  did,  'n'  wouldn't 
even  see  she  was  fed  that  night !  Thar  hain't  ben 
a  mean  thing  ye  cud  say  'bout  her  ye  ain't  sed  'n' 
more'n  that  hev  mistrusted  me,  an'  old  fossil  she 
wouldn't  need  to  look  at  twice!  Then  agin,  all 
through  her  bein'  here  you've  used  her  nasty  out  o' 
cussed,  narrer  jealousy,  'n'  air  to  blame  fer  our  losin' 
the  best  table  gal  we  ever  had.  'N'  thar  ain't  one  o' 
the  boarders  but  what's  sayin'  it  'n'  sneerin'  at  ye, 
'n'  it's  all  over  town  ez  well !  What  you  orter  do  is 
send  that  temper  'n'  mind  o'  yourn  to  the  laundry  'n' 
hev  'em  washed  'n'  ironed.  Ef  you  had  the  runnin' 
o'  this  house  for  a  year  I'd  go  broke." 


306  MYRTLE   BALDWIN" 

"  But  she  was  a  sly,  deceivin',  little  hussy,"  snarled 
Abigail,  "  'n'  I  never  would  trust  her.  I  believed 
she  was  a  bad  un  an'  do  now,  the  sneaky  moon-eyed 
Jez  — " 

"  Say,  Abigail,  you  jest  quit  callin'  her  names 
right  now,"  interrupted  John  sharply,  "  I've  heered 
viper-tongued  wimmen  talk  a  durn  sight  wuss  'n  you 
kin,  'cause  they  was  a  durn  sight  smarter!  When 
you  git  at  it  you  don't  'pear  to  know  'miff  to  cuddle 
sap  in  an  old  boot,  you  don't!  Ef  Mrs.  Davis  was 
here  she  cud  tell  you  a  few  things,  too,  she  cud,  fer 
she  was  a  woman  o'  sense  that's  forgot  more'n  you 
ever  knew,"  and  John  stalked  out  of  the  office  to  end 
the  quarrel. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

ATHENS 

THE  half  million  or  less  population  comprising 
modern  Athens  were  deporting  and  disporting  them- 
selves in  about  the  usual  way  of  humanity  that  No- 
vember afternoon  when  poor  scared  Myrtle,  realizing 
that  she  had  escaped  from  some  den  of  iniquity, 
once  more  started  on  her  quest  for  a  room. 

On  Paragon  Hill  and  Quality  Avenue  the  aristo- 
cratic cult,  the  bluebloods,  were  working  hard  to 
amuse  themselves,  striving  to  outshine  and  outdo  one 
another  after  the  manner  of  all  self-satisfied 
"  Blues."  The  rich  mammas  were  scheming  and 
conniving  to  aid  their  daughters  in  landing  eligible 
and  especially  wealthy  husbands;  to  that  end  and 
purpose  they  garbed  their  maiden  offspring  as  never 
Solomon  was  arrayed ;  gave  receptions,  cotillions,  af- 
fairs, and  crushes  without  stint;  and  discussed  who 
should  be  invited  and  who  not,  as  if  the  fate  of  a 
nation  hinged  on  that  momentous  subject.  They 
also  criticised  one  another,  sneered  at  each  other  in 
the  suave,  smooth,  cynical  manner  peculiar  to  all 

307 


308  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

aristocracy  —  codfish  or  otherwise  —  and  the  bump- 
tious, arrogant  "  I  am  it "  percolated  through  every 
speech,  and  every  assertion.  The  "  common  herd  " 
were  referred  to  as  if  out  of  the  pale  of  God's  bless- 
ings or  mercy.  The  newly  rich  were  raked  over  the 
coals  of  sarcasm  behind  their  backs  yet  flattered 
nauseatingly  to  their  faces  while  their  wines  were 
drank  and  viands  eaten.  As  of  old,  these  bluebloods 
worshipped  at  one  and  the  same  shrine,  only  it  was 
the  gold  of  the  calf  they  bowed  down  to  now  and 
even  the  calf  had  grown  conscious  of  the  change. 
There  was  culture  also  in  this  aristocratic  community 
whose  trade  mark  was  the  dollar  sign,  and  great 
artists  were  feted,  famous  singers  banqueted,  and 
deep  thinkers  patronized  and  made  social  lions. 

There  was  Anglomania,  and  scions  of  effete  no- 
bility without  a  spoonful  of  brains  in  their  back- 
ward-sloping craniums  or  a  drop  of  honest  blood, 
were  toadied  to  and  sought  after  in  disgusting  man- 
ner. Now  and  then  one  of  Aristocracy's  —  and 
money's  —  fair  daughters  sold  herself  to  a  nobility's 
impecunious  son  as  basely  as  ever  a  scarlet  woman 
sold  herself  —  and  sought  the  divorce  courts  later. 

There  were  clubs  in  this  cult;  Browning  clubs, 
Ibsen  clubs,  Emerson  clubs,  where  women  gathered 
to  read  and  gravely  discuss  these  famous  writers  in  a 
bumptious,  critical  manner,  although  to  most  of 


ATHENS  309 

them  the  utterances  of  these  authors  were  as  unintel- 
ligible as  the  hieroglyphics  upon  an  Egyptian  obelisk. 

There  were  golf,  tennis,  and  riding  clubs  in  this 
clan,  whose  ostensible  object  was  out-door  and  health- 
giving  sport,  and  real  one;  a  chance  for  Society  to 
show  its  raiment  and  permit  match-making  to  go 
on. 

There  were  churches  within  the  sacred  precincts 
of  this  cult,  temples  of  mammon  where  fashion  with 
a  capital  F  was  ever  on  parade  and  religion  an  ex- 
cuse for  it.  Where  Wealth  held  a  weekly  mutual- 
criticism  meeting  with  reclining  in  luxurious  pews, 
listening  to  much  classic  music,  and  little  sermoniz- 
ing. A  few  ministers  also  found  occupation  amid 
this  gilded  coterie;  one  or  two  worthy  workers  in 
this  gospel  vineyard  who  honestly  strove  to  lift  their 
congregation  out  of  indolence,  self-love  and  vanity, 
and  waken  their  souls  to  broader  and  better  thoughts ; 
and  more  whose  sole  ambition  was  to  marry,  christen, 
and  eulogize  their  flocks  on  call;  also  assure  them 
that  they  had  made  their  calling  and  election  sure, 
spread  the  unction  of  spiritual  flattery  over  their 
consciences,  ignore  their  failings,  and  draw  a  fat 
salary  for  so  doing.  This  was  the  highly  cultured, 
blueblooded,  gilt-edged  cult  of  Modern  Athens,  satis- 
fied with  themselves,  sneering  at  all  humanity  out- 
side their  pale,  and  with  a  "  Behold  my  Majesty  " 


310  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

in  some  heraldic  form  on  their  various  coats  of  arms. 

There  was  also  a  middle  class  in  this  "  busy,  bet- 
ter and  more  bumptious  "  city,  a  few  thousand  stock 
gamblers  who  fleeced  one  another  for  practice  and 
the  outside  public  for  profit;  half  as  many  doctors 
who  dispensed  pills,  paregoric  and  plausible  promises 
at  so  much  per;  lawyers  who  juggled  laws  for  their 
own  ends,  fomented  strife  to  obtain  fat  fees,  and  res- 
cued estates  from  litigants  to  keep  them  themselves; 
and  more  thousands  of  busy  business  men  pursuing 
the  elusive  dollar,  week  in,  week  out. 

There  was  also  a  nether  world  in  this  great  city. 
A  world  chained  down  by  vice  and  poverty,  yet 
dwelling  within  the  same  confines ;  where  the  scarlet 
army  flaunted  its  sin-bought  plumes  and  finery  in 
the  faces  of  honest  workers  and  rode  in  carriages 
while  they  walked.  Where  tithe  was  paid  for  law's 
protection  and  obtained,  and  where  thousands  lived 
in  the  most  abject  wretchedness  without  even  sani- 
tation or  decency.  Here  entire  families  often  made 
their  abode  in  one  small  room,  children  learned  the 
ways  of  sin  before  they  did  their  letters,  illegitimacy 
was  no  social  ban,  theft  an  evidence  of  ability,  and 
the  name  of  God  seldom  heard  except  in  blasphemy. 
Here  also  or  around  the  borders  of  Slumdom,  dwelt 
thousands  of  salesgirls  in  stores  and  all  classes  of 
working  girls,  expected  to  dress  well  and  live  hon- 


ATHENS  311 

estly  on  four,  five,  and  six  dollars  a  week ;  and  if  they 
failed  in  so  doing,  no  sane  person  wondered  at  it. 
Here,  as  might  be  expected,  saloons  by  the  hundred 
flourished  like  so  many  upas  trees  and  open  alike  to 
both  sexes.  The  rum  shop  stood  next  to  the  brothel, 
the  gambling  house  flanked  that,  and  the  gaunt  spec- 
tres of  vice,  debauchery,  and  poverty,  ever  trailed 
their  scarlet  or  black  robes  over  or  fastened  their 
merciless  fangs  upon  this  hope-forsaken  world.  Into 
this  the  aristocracy  never  penetrated.  If  they,  as 
most  of  them  did,  owned  these  scores  of  vice-infected, 
unsanitary  abodes,  an  agent  collected  the  rent,  and 
if  that  was  not  forthcoming,  ousted  tenants  with  no 
more  compunction  than  if  they  were  as  many  swine. 
A  few  zealots  in  the  guise  of  a  Salvation  Army  ever 
strove  to  leaven  this  nether  world  by  hackneyed  phrase 
and  discordant  sound  and  gathered  alms  to  feed  the 
countless  children  forced  into  existence.  A  few  phi- 
lanthropists talked  much  about  what  should  be  done 
for  this  under-world  and  did  but  little.  Now  and 
then  a  slumming  party  inspired  by  curiosity  rode 
through  it  at  night  and  had  their  senses  properly 
offended  while  so  doing.  Patrol  wagons  occasionally 
came  to  remove  some  rum-crazed  sinner,  hearses  plied 
their  grewsome  errands  with  frequency,  and  so  life, 
liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  —  or  abject 
misery  —  continued  here,  year  in,  year  out. 


312  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

Those  pursuits  were  also  in  full  swing  that  No- 
vember afternoon  when  poor,  misguided,  and  unwise 
Myrtle  Baldwin  made  her  fortunate  escape  from  a 
police-protected  den  of  vice.  And  so  scared  was 
she  that  she  never  halted  to  even  look  for  a  "  Room 
to  let "  sign  until  she  had  traversed  several  streets 
and  entered  a  less  pretentious  section.  Then  she 
followed  a  narrow  avenue  sloping  downward  with 
still  narrower  side  streets  crossing  it,  each  bearing  a 
letter  for  designation,  and  when  she  came  to  "  M  " 
street  halted,  for  its  only  occupants  as  far  as  she 
could  see  were  a  few  children  and  two  or  three  dogs. 
Its  comparative  quiet  also  allured  her  and  turning 
into  it  she  once  more  looked  for  a  room  sign.  A  half- 
dozen  of  "  M  "  street's  dingy  brown,  wooden  build- 
ings, were  glanced  at,  then  the  name  "  Cassidy " 
caught  her  eye  in  a  window  with  "  Room  to  let," 
and  "  Washing  done  here,"  beneath  it ;  Norah  of 
course  recurred  to  her  at  once  in  occult  connection, 
and  here  she  turned  in  and  knocked  at  the  door.  A 
portly  woman,  bare-armed,  red-faced,  answered  her 
summons. 

"  Shure  I  hev  one  room,  ye  kin  see  it,"  she  re- 
sponded to  Myrtle's  timid  inquiry,  and  looking  sur- 
prised that  so  well-dressed  a  girl  should  have  blun- 
dered into  her  street.  "  It's  two  flights  back  "  she 
added,  leading  the  way  upstairs,  "  an'  two-fifty  the 


ATHENS  313 

wake  widout  hate."  It  wasn't  a  pretentious  one 
either,  two  wooden  chairs,  a  cane-seat  rocker,  wash- 
stand,  tiny  stove,  faded  carpet,  and  yellow  turned- 
spindle  bedstead,  being  its  furnishings.  It  smelled 
musty  also  and  its  one  window  opened  upon  a  back 
yard  now  aflutter  with  washing.  But  the  price  and 
the  name  of  Cassidy  combined  determined  Myrtle 
and  she  engaged  it. 

"  It's  pay  a  wake  to  begin  wid,  no  offense,  ma'am," 
asserted  Mrs.  Cassidy,  "  an'  no  fellys  'lowed  in  yer 
room,  ma'am,"  and  having  thus  stated  price  and 
terms  she  wondered  how  it  happened  that  so  hand- 
some an  American  girl  should  accept  so  cheap  and 


poor  a  room 


"  An'  what  may  be  yer  name  ?  "  she  next  queried 
bluntly,  "  an'  whar  ye  from  ?  " 

"  You  may  call  me  Miss  Stone,"  responded  Myr- 
tle smiling  at  this  outspoken  Hibernian  lady,  "I 
came  from  Conway  Hollow  to  find  work  in  this  city 
and  " — with  a  shade  of  pathos,  "  your  name  caught 
my  eyes  because  it's  the  same  as  that  of  my  only 
girl  friend." 

"  An'  shure  it's  a  famous  one  in  the  ould  coun- 
thry,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Cassidy  much  pleased,  "  an' 
me  man,  Dinnis  Cassidy,  was  kilt  four  years  ago,  God 
rist  his  sowl,  wid  a  derrick,  an'  Tim  he  do  be  drivin' 
a  tip-cart  an'  Mary  Ann  she's  eighteen  an'  workin' 


314  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

in  a  box  shop  an'  Agnes,  she's  bundle  girl  in  a  big 
sthore.  I  hov  two  more  in  the  cimetery,"  she  added, 
"  and'  wid  washin'  an'  the  wages  an'  lettin'  a  room 
we  pay  the  rint." 

"  I  have  a  trunk  at  the  station  I  must  get,"  Myrtle 
rejoined  now  feeling  that  this  voluble  Irishwoman 
must  be  honest,  "  and  I  shall  have  to  find  some  place 
for  meals  I  suppose." 

"  Shure  thar  do  be  a  good  aitin'-place  four  streets 
up,"  answered  Mrs.  Cassidy,  with  increased  interest, 
"  an'  Tim  kin  fetch  the  trunk  for  a  quarther  an' 
glad  to  get  it  an'  if  ye  loike  ye  kin  have  tay  wid  us." 

And  thus  was  Myrtle  Baldwin,  the  erstwhile  waif 
of  Folly  Island,  duly  installed  in  the  great  city  of 
Athens  and  fortunate  to  have  obtained  shelter 
among  honest  and  kind-hearted  people.  Her  land- 
lady was  curious,  however,  as  she  soon  found  out, 
and  now  Myrtle,  profiting  by  experience,  decided  to 
give  a  little  more  plausible  account  of  herself  and  so 
check  all  suspicion. 

"  I  am  an  orphan,"  she  explained  when  the  two 
had  descended  to  Mrs.  Cassidy's  one  small  "  best 
room,"  "  and  left  the  place  I  had  been  living  at  last 
summer  at  work  in  a  hotel.  It  was  there  I  made 
friends  with  this  ]STorah  Cassidy,  and  by  her  advice 
came  here  to  find  a  place  in  some  store."  A  partial 
fiction  of  course,  but  Myrtle  had  come  to  realize 


ATHENS  315 

that  she  must  so  conceal  her  past  or  else  awaken 
suspicion. 

"  An'  shure  ye  can  aisy,  wid  your  face,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Cassidy  admiringly.  "  An'  Agnes 
kin  take  ye  to  her  sthore  in  the  mornin'.  It's  the 
bist  in  the  city,  shure  it  is,  an'  they  do  be  wantin' 
foine  girls  to  tind  the  counthers." 

That  evening  also  served  more  firmly  to  estab- 
lish Myrtle  in  her  new  home  for  she  —  to  check 
questions  regarding  her  previous  life  —  enlarged 
upon  and  described  her  experiences  at  Conway  Hol- 
low, also  Korah;  while  Mary  Ann  and  Agnes,  both 
keen-witted  girls,  opened  her  eyes  a  little  regard- 
ing city  life.  Myrtle,  who  by  this  time  had  learned 
the  wisdom  of  judicious  flattery,  also  won  their  good 
will  by  a  few  words  of  it,  and  they  became  her  ad- 
mirers at  once. 

Her  admission  into  "  The  Emporium,"  the  larg- 
est department  store  in  Athens,  the  next  morning  was 
also  an  easy  matter  for  Agnes  piloted  her  to  the 
elevator,  she  was  shot  up  eight  stories,  presented  her- 
self at  the  "  Help  Engaged  "  office  and  there  found 
a  small,  thin,  gray-haired  man  seated  at  a  desk  and 
writing. 

"  I  was  sent  here  by  Agnes  Cassidy,  sir,"  Myrtle 
interrupted  him  with,  and  then  he  looked  up  and 
turned  to  her  with  a  snap. 


316  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

"  Who's  Agnes  Cassidy  ?  "  he  demanded,  flashing 
one  sharp  look  at  her. 

"  Why,  she  works  here,"  Myrtle  answered  in  sur- 
prise, "  and  I  want  a  place,  too,  if  I  can  get  it." 

"  Ever  work  in  a  store  before  ? "  he  next  de- 
manded, resolving  that  he  could  use  this  handsome 
black-eyed  girl  on  the  instant. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  faltered,  "  I've  only  done  table  work 
in  a  hotel." 

"  Table  work,  eh  ?  "  he  again  queried  now  more 
interested,  "  are  you  quick  at  figures  ?  Can  you  add 
and  subtract  correctly  ?  " 

"I  —  I  guess  so,  sir,"  Myrtle  rejoined,  "  I  can 
try,"  and  then  he  faced  around  for  this  wasn't  the 
sort  of  girl  who  usually  applied  here  for  work. 

"  Well,  you  mustn't  guess  about  that,  have  you 
any  references  ? " 

"I  —  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  sir,"  she  an- 
swered, scared  a  little  by  his  abrupt  manner.  "  I 
only  came  here  yesterday." 

"  From  where  ?  "  he  next  asked  in  a  kindlier  tone. 

"  I  was  working  in  a  hotel  at  Conway  Hollow, 
sir,"  she  answered,  hoping  he  would  not  insist  on  fur- 
ther disclosures. 

Neither  did  he,  for  this  keen  business  man  whose 
fiat  engaged  or  discharged  over  a  thousand  em- 
ployees, only  saw  her  as  a  neat,  well-formed,  quite 


ATHENS  317 

handsome  prospective  one,  who  could  most  likely 
learn  easily,  and  certainly  would  look  well  behind 
a  counter.  A  cold,  critical,  comprehensive  analysis 
as  devoid  of  sentiment  and  much  the  same  as  the 
selection  of  a  well-formed  horse.  Ten  minutes  of 
this  sufficed,  also,  then  he  asked  her  name  and  city 
address,  entered  them  in  a  small  ledger,  wrote  "  Set 
this  girl  at  work,"  on  a  slip  of  paper  and  handed 
it  to  her. 

"  Go  to  Parsons,  hosiery  department,"  he  then 
directed,  "  it's  four-fifty  for  first  two  weeks,  five  after 
if  you  do  well  and  aprons  furnished,"  and  then  she 
was  dismissed  as  if  her  own  acquiescence  in  this 
bargain  was  a  foregone  conclusion. 

It  was,  also,  for  poor  Myrtle,  utterly  unused  to 
city  ways  and  bargain-making,  and  scared  withal, 
dared  not  raise  a  question,  but  presented  herself  to 
Parsons  (after  many  timid  inquiries  as  to  where  he 
was  in  this  monster  hive)  and  found  herself  stared 
at  by  him.  Neither  did  she  like  this  young  fellow's 
half-patronizing,  half-insolent  way  of  addressing  her, 
or  the  bold  and  sinister  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  are  to  come  in  at  eight,  Miss  Stone,"  he 
directed  after  a  glance  at  the  slip  of  paper  she 
handed  him,  "  register  in  the  girls'  dressing  room 
and  be  on  duty  at  eight-thirty  sharp.  I  will  look 
after  you,"  he  added  with  covert  smile  and  admiring 


318  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

glance,  "  and  I  am  sure  our  department  will  be  the 
gainer  by  your  addition." 

And  of  the  two  men  so  far  met  in  this  "  Em- 
porium of  Fashion"  (as  advertised)  Myrtle  liked 
the  small,  keen-eyed,  blunt-spoken,  gray-haired  man 
the  better. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A   VANISHING    HOPE 

WHEN  Mark  left  Conway  Hollow  he  felt  almost 
sure  his  four  months  of  heart-hunger  and  sweetheart- 
hunting  were  soon  to  be  rewarded  and  Myrtle  found. 
All  that  now  seemed  necessary  was  to  find  his  Norah 
Cassidy  in  Auburn  and  the  rest  would  follow.  So 
sure  was  he  that  within  forty-eight  hours  this  runa- 
way girl  would  be  located  that  he  even  wired  Mrs. 
Upson  the  good  news  when  the  train  halted  for 
dinner,  and  when  Auburn  was  reached  late  in  the 
afternoon  he  hurried  to  a  hotel  and  seized  a  directory 
before  registering.  There  were  Cassidys  in  it, 
nearly  two  pages  of  them,  with  almost  every  given 
name  ever  heard  on  Erin's  green  isle  for  Auburn 
was  a  mill  city  of  eighty  thousand  or  more  and 
strongly  Celtic.  And  now  the  needle  and  haymow 
simile  occurred  to  Mark  with  pertinent  force. 
There  was  no  help  for  it,  however;  find  ISTorah  Cas- 
sidy he  must,  and  to  aid  his  quest  he  at  once  copied 
the  street  address  of  every  Cassidy  in  the  list  before 
supper.  Then  he  repaired  to  his  room,  washed,  ate 

319 


320  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

supper,  and  started  out.  His  first  call  at  the  home 
of  a  Cassidy  disclosed  the  fact  that  another  family 
of  that  name  not  far  distant  had  a  daughter  Norah 
and  to  this  abode  he  now  hurried  with  warm  hopes. 

"  I  want  to  see  Miss  Norah  Cassidy,"  he  asserted 
to  the  man  who  answered  his  knock. 

"  An'  shure  ye  kin,  come  in,  sor,"  was  the  cordial 
answer,  and  Mark  was  shown  into  John  Cassidy's 
best  room  and  ^Torah  summoned. 

"  Were  you  doing  table-work  at  Conway  Hollow 
last  summer,"  he  hastily  asked  of  this  dignified  Irish 


"  No,  sir,"  she  answered  in  offended  tone  and  ex- 
cellent English,  "  I  never  heard  of  that  place  nor 
have  done  table-work,  sir." 

"  Well  excuse  me,  please,"  Mark  rejoined  meekly, 
"  I  was  informed  a  lady  of  your  name  was  there, 
and  I  wish  to  find  her  for  especially  urgent  reasons. 
Do  you  happen  to  know  of  a  namesake  of  yours  who 
was  there  the  past  summer  ? " 

"  I  do  not,  sir,"  she  answered  stiffly  and  looking 
as  if  she  thought  her  caller  was  insane.  "  I  know 
a  Norah  Cassidy  but  neither  is  she  obliged  to  do 
table-work,  sir,"  and  then  Mark,  conscious  he  had 
offended  this  rather  haughty  young  lady  excused 
himself  as  best  he  could. 

The  next  two  Cassidy  homes  gave  no  better  re- 


A    VANISHING    HOPE  321 

suits,  no  Norah  was  a  part  of  either  family,  but  at 
the  fourth  he  was  told  that  a  Norah  Cassidy  lived 
in  another  part  of  the  city  who  had  been  waitress  in 
some  hotel.  To  this  abode,  street,  and  number  as 
per  his  schedule  Mark  now  turned  his  steps,  found 
it  a  good  mile  away  and  in  one  of  a  row  of  mill 
tenements  all  alike.  The  "  Norah  "  of  this  home  — 
a  red-haired  and  more  distinctly  Hibernian  maid 
—  had  never  heard  of  Conway  Hollow  or  anybody 
else  by  the  name  of  Norah.  There  were  more  Cas- 
sidys,  however,  in  that  vicinity,  three  families  of 
them,  and  to  those  in  due  order  Mark  now  appealed. 
At  the  house  of  the  first  a  vicious  dog  showed  unmis- 
takable enmity  but  no  Norah  was  forthcoming,  the 
next  seemed  populated  by  at  least  a  dozen  children 
and  two  babies  both  yelling  lustily,  (none  by  the 
name  of  Norah  however),  and  at  the  third  a  wake 
was  in  progress.  At  neither  of  these  was  any  trace 
or  tidings  of  a  I^orah  obtained  and  then  Mark  took 
counsel  with  himself.  Clearly  the  search  for  Miss 
Norah  Cassidy  so  far  was  a  dubious  proceeding,  and 
it  was  ten-thirty.  Once  more  he  consulted  his  list 
by  the  nearest  street  lamp  and  finding  another  Cas- 
sidy near  he  resolved  to  try  one  more  call  that  even- 
ing. This  also  proved  futile,  no  ISTorah  dwelt  there, 
but  he  obtained  a  little  hope  however  and  informa- 
tion that  a  Korah,  in  fact  two  of  them,  lived  in  an- 


322  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

other  part  of  the  city,  and  one  had  worked  in  a 
hotel  some  time  previous.  Here  also  it  now  oc- 
curred to  Mark  to  check  off  the  Cassidys  he  had  so 
far  called  on  so  that  on  the  morrow  he  could  go 
about  his  search  in  a  more  coherent,  logical  manner. 
Then  he  returned  to  his  hotel  conscious  that  the 
finding  of  the  right  Korah  in  this  city  was  not  so 
easy  a  matter  as  it  first  seemed.  He  also,  and  still 
sure  of  success,  wrote  Mrs.  Upson  that  night  detail- 
ing his  rather  droll  experiences,  assuring  her  that 
she  might  expect  a  telegram  next  day  and  to  come 
to  his  office  as  soon  as  she  did. 

He  was  up  bright  and  early  next  morning,  ob- 
tained a  map  of  the  city,  located  and  checked  as 
nearly  as  possible,  all  Cassidys  not  yet  called  on  and 
after  breakfast  again  started  out  on  his  curious 
quest  The  two  who  had  Norahs  in  the  house  were 
first  sought  but  without  benefit,  the  next  directed 
him  to  one  he  had  called  on  the  evening  previous 
and  when  he,  not  recognizing  the  house,  tried  there, 
the  door  was  promptly  shut  in  his  face  with  a  "  go 
wan,  ye  loonatic,  or  I'll  have  ye  'risted,"  from  the 
woman  who  came  to  the  door. 

By  this  time,  Mark  had  began  to  grow  discour- 
aged. He  had  tramped  Auburn  for  eight  hours, 
called  on  at  least  twenty  Cassidys,  found  eight 
Norahs,  none  the  right  one,  been  chased  by  dogs, 


A    VANISHING    HOPE  323 

taken  for  a  maniac  three  times,  and  disturbed  a 
wake.  All  in  all,  so  far,  it  was  depressing,  and 
this  clue  to  his  much-wanted  sweetheart  seemed 
worse  than  elusive.  Two  dozen  more  Cassidys  re- 
mained on  his  list,  however,  he  had  no  intention  of 
giving  up  the  pursuit,  only  the  vexatious  similarity 
of  race-names  was  exasperating  and  no  progress  had 
so  far  been  made.  He  now  consulted  his  list  once 
more  and  began  again.  All  the  rest  of  the  forenoon 
he  hunted  for  Cassidys,  crossing  and  recrossing  his 
steps  many  times.  Twice  now  he  called  at  Cassidy 
homes  previously  visited  but  not  checked  and  to  meet 
scant  courtesy.  Noon  came  and  a  halt  for  dinner, 
then  out  again  on  the  hunt  once  more.  He  tramped 
miles  up  and  down  narrow  steets,  found  "  Norahs 
young  and  Norahs  old,  Norahs  warm  and  Norahs 
cold,  JSTorahs  tender  and  Norahs  tough,"  but  never 
the  Norah  he  wanted  or  one  that  had  ever  heard  of 
Conway  Hollow !  Finally  and  late  in  the  afternoon 
having  hunted  down  the  last  Cassidy  home  and 
grown  weary,  he  sought  his  room  and  sat  down  to 
round  up  his  experiences  and  decide  what  to  do. 
Then  it  dawned  on  him  that  his  informant  of  the 
Barker  House  might  have  been  deceived  by  this 
!N~orah  for  reasons  of  her  own  and  that  Auburn  wasn't 
her  residence  at  all!  Also  and  following  this  was 
the  conclusion  that  he  had  spent  at  least  twelve 


324  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

hours  in  a  wild-goose  chase.  But  what  to  do  next, 
was  the  question.  Myrtle  had  undoubtedly  left 
Conway  Hollow  with  this  Norah,  they  had  become 
good  friends,  most  likely  had  exchanged  confidences 
and  mutual  plans,  to  find  Norah  was  to  find  Myrtle, 
but  the  Norah  wasn't  in  Auburn !  And  then  once 
more  realizing  that  a  woman's  wits  had  been  keener 
than  his  in  this  quest  —  as  they  had  —  Mark  wrote 
to  Mrs.  TJpson  again.  "  Come  at  once  to  my  office, 
Forty-two  Bank  Street,"  he  said,  "  also  wire  me  when 
you  will  arrive.  I  have  hunted  this  city  all  over 
for  Norah  Cassidy  and  can't  find  her.  Don't  be- 
lieve she  lives  here,  and  want  to  confer  with  you 
as  to  our  next  move.  You  must  also  accept  the  hos- 
pitality of  my  boarding-place  '  The  Elms '  as  my 
guest  while  in  Athens." 

Then  he  paid  his  bill  and  left  Auburn. 

But  he  was  quite  mistaken  as  many  a  man  has 
been  before,  for  Norah  Cassidy  was  in  Auburn  and 
safely  ensconsed  in  the  home  of  her  married  sister, 
Mrs.  Maggie  O'Connor,  whose  frugal  husband  was 
prospering  in  the  grocery  business.  More  than  that, 
and  so  near  to  the  margin  line  of  good  or  ill  luck 
do  we  often  step  and  fail  to  cross  it ;  that  Mark  had 
even  entered  John  O'Connor's  store  to  inquire  for 
and  locate  a  Cassidy  residence,  had  called  at  one 


A    VANISHING    HOPE  325 

only  two  doors  away  from  where  Norah  was  to  state 
his  errand,  and  not  until  he  had  departed  did  it 
dawn  on  this  Mrs.  Cassidy  that  her  neighbor's  sis- 
ter might  be  the  much-wanted  Norah.  Then  she 
hastened  to  her  and  related  the  incident. 

"  An'  shure  he  was  'most  out  of  his  sinses  wid 
hunti-n'  fer  ye,  Norah,"  she  asserted  in  conclusion. 
"  He  said  he'd  been  trampin'  all  day  to  find  ye. 
An'  he  was  a  handsome  jintleman,  too,"  she  added 
regretfully  as  if  that  made  matters  worse,  "  an'  po- 
lite as  by  your  lave,  so  he  was." 

And  then  Norah  was  so  mystified  that  she  gasped 
for  breath  for  Myrtle,  true  to  her  promise  to  Mark, 
had  never  hinted  that  she  knew  such  a  person  or 
any  young  man  in  fact,  and  so  his  original  and  well- 
meant  caution,  now  recoiled  upon  him. 

"  I  can't  think  what  that  man  wanted  of  me," 
Norah  asserted  after  recovering  from  her  astonish- 
ment, "  shure  I  harmed  no  one  at  Conway  Hollow 
or  sthole  anything.  Did  he  look  loike  a  dhrummer," 
she  queried  after  a  pause,  and  recalling  one  espe- 
cially who  had  tipped  her  liberally  and  declared 
he  was  smitten  by  her,  "  an'  did  he  have  sassy  black 
eyes,  an'  curled-up  moustache  ? " 

"  I  niver  cud  tell  how  he  looked,"  Mrs.  Cassidy 
responded,  "  for  I  was  that  flustered.  He  was  nice- 


326  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

lookin'  I'm  shure,  an'  soft-spoken  loike  a  jintleman 
an'  crazy  to  find  ye,  but  coinin'  so  suddin  on  me 
I  fergot  ye  till  he'd  gone." 

For  an  hour  these  two  discussed  Mark's  mys- 
terious quest  in  all  its  bearings,  Mrs.  O'Connor  sure 
he  must  be  a  "  dhrummer  stuck  on  Norah,"  while 
Uorah  inclining  to  that  opinion,  as  she  had  reason 
to,  grew  angry  at  his  impertinence  in  so  pursuing 
her. 

"  I  wished  I'd  seen  him,"  she  said  finally  with  a 
snap.  "  Shure  I'd  'a'  towld  him  what  I  thought  o' 
the  loikes  o'  him  a  trapesin  after  me  jist  bekase  I 
tuk  his  tips  an'  smoiled  at  him,  the  impident  gos- 
soon," and  then  her  keen  wits  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  It  wa'n't  me  he  wanted  at  all  at  all,"  she  as- 
serted after  a  pause.  "  It  was  Miss  Stone  an'  I 
know  it !  She  was  a  table  gal  wid  Mister  Barker, 
too,  an'  a  swate  one  wid  a  secret  an'  it  was  her  felly 
huntin'  fer  me  to  find  her,"  and  then  inspired  by 
this  sudden  discovery  of  a  romance  she  jumped  up 
and  down  while  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Shure  I  knew  she  was  love-sick  the  furst  morn- 
in'  I  tuk  her  to  mass,"  Norah  added  gleefully,  "  the 
way  she  bint  her  head  and  sighed.  An'  her  eyes 
got  wet  wid  tears,  the  poor  darlin',  but  she  niver 
towld.  An'  that's  what  made  me  love  her,"  she  con- 
tinued, also  sighing.  "  She  was  not  loike  most  girls 


A    VANISHING    HOPE  327 

tellin'  all  about  their  fellys  loike  fools,  not  a  bit  of 
it !  Miss  Stone  kept  it  to  herself  all  the  time,  loike 
it  was  the  name  o'  God,  so  she  did,"  and  then  per- 
force Norah  was  called  upon  to  recount  more  of  her 
experiences  at  Conway  Hollow  and  what  she  knew 
of  Miss  Stone. 

"  An'  she's  comin'  to  see  me  some  Sunday,"  she 
asserted  in  conclusion,  "  an'  I  hope  'twill  be  soon 
so  I  kin  tell  her  her  felly's  lookin'  fer  her  the  poor 
darlin',  an'  aise  her  heart." 

But  Myrtle  never  came  to  visit  this  bright  and 
lovable  Irish  lass  and  so  one  more  door  to  her  rescue 
was  closed. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

A  CONFERENCE  OF  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

A  SOMEWHAT  pathetic  meeting  occurred  between 
Mark  and  Mrs.  Upson  when  they  met  at  the  station 
in  Athens  two  days  later,  although  a  comparatively 
silent  one,  for  only  polite  commonplaces  were  ex- 
changed until  the  seclusion  of  his  office  was  reached. 

"  Well,  my  dear  mother,"  he  then  said  half  smil- 
ing, "  it's  been  a  case  of  almost  certain  hope  then 
keen  disappointment  for  the  past  five  days,  and  while 
I  know  Myrtle  is  alive,  or  was  two  weeks  ago,  she 
is  as  much  lost  as  ever,"  and  then  he  recounted  his 
visit  to  Conway  Hollow,  all  he  learned  there  and 
all  about  his  unavailing  search  for  this  Norah  Gas- 
sidy. 

"  Myrtle  has  gone  somewhere,"  he  concluded 
sadly,  "but  God  only  knows  where.  It  may  be  to 
this  city  in  search  of  a  position  in  some  store,  to  a 
mill  town  with  this  Norah  and  a  chance  for  work 
there,  or  to  the  home  of  this  southern  lady,  Mrs. 
Davis.  The  one  fact  that  baffles  me  most  is  that 
Myrtle  never  made  a  confidante  of  any  one  —  unless 

328 


329 

it  be  this  Norah  —  at  Conway  Hollow,  not  even  to 
the  extent  of  admitting  she  came  from  Folly  Island. 
It  looks  as  if  she  believed  she  might  be  followed  by 
your  father  and  must  keep  herself  absolutely  hidden. 
Of  course  I  told  her  to  use  the  name  Iva  Stone,  as 
I  explained  to  you,  and  to  beware  of  men's  flatteries. 
Also  that  my  connection  with  her  running  away  and 
money  assistance  must  be  kept  secret.  She  seems  to 
have  done  even  more,  for  no  one  at  the  Barker  House 
learned  even  a  hint  of  her  past  history  or  future 
intention  after  leaving  there." 

And  then  Mrs.  Upson,  whose  eyes  had  never  once 
left  Mark's  face  during  the  recital,  sighed  deeply. 

"  I  am  worse  than  disappointed,"  she  declared, 
"  I  am  almost  heart-broken.  Your  first  letter  and 
telegram  gave  me  so  much  hope,  your  next  letter 
even  more,  and  now  it's  all  gone.  There  is  another 
confession  I  must  make  to  you,  Mr.  Mason,"  she 
added  again  sighing,  and  covering  her  face,  "  and 
that  is  my  own  awakened  sense  of  guilt.  Before  I 
met  you  that  day  my  conscience  was  blunted  as  it 
were  and  my  child  seemed  only  an  outcome  and  part 
of  my  betrayal  by  that  villain.  It  is  a  burden  I 
must  forget  to  obtain  peace  of  mind.  To  learn  that 
she  was  alive,  a  grown-up  girl  and  looking  like  me, 
only  served  to  torture  me,  God  only  knows  how 
much !  It  has  been  one  long  month  of  misery,  of 


330  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

self-reproach  and  self-hatred  to  me.  Oh,  you  cannot 
know,  Mr.  Mason,"  she  added  vehemently,  "  you 
cannot  know  how  I  have  been  punished  for  my  sin 
and  the  end  is  not  yet!  Every  day,  every  hour, 
every  waking  moment  since  I  left  you  has  been  one 
of  anguish !  I  have  wept  bitter  tears  of  repentance. 
Prayed  God  to  forgive  me  in  vain,  and  seen  my 
baby's  face,  as  I  last  saw  it,  hovering  over  me  in 
my  dreams!  Has  it  been  a  month  or  a  year,  Mr. 
Mason  ?  "  she  continued  looking  up  at  him !  "  I 
cannot  tell.  And  what  makes  it  worse  I  have  no  one 
I  dare  confide  in.  Truly,  as  God  has  said,  the  way 
of  the  transgressor  is  hard  and  there  is  no  hell  that 
can  be  equal  to  the  torture  of  one's  conscience." 

"  Oh,  come  cheer  up,  my  dear  Mrs.  TJpson, — 
mother,  I  meant,"  Mark  asserted  buoyantly,  for  he 
was  that  way  when  others  were  in  trouble.  "  We 
are  going  to  find  Myrtle,  never  fear,  and  then  we'll 
all  be  happy.  Forget  the  past  right  now  and  let 
us  take  a  fresh  start.  And  now  I  want  your  keen 
woman's  wit  to  help  me  find  my  sweetheart.  What 
do  you  say  to  your  going  to  Conway  Hollow  to- 
morrow and  using  your  tact  and  diplomacy  to  ex- 
tract information  from  this  table  girl,  Katie  ?  My 
idea  is  she  knows  more  than  she  told  me  and  for 
reasons  of  her  own,  but  what  they  are  I  cannot 


A    CONFERENCE    OP    WATS    AND    MEANS          331 

guess.  This  Koran  is  a  strict  Catholic,  I  learned, 
Katie  wasn't,  or  not  very.  There  was  jealousy  or 
a  feud  between  them  over  some  fellow,  and  there  you 
are.  I  was  so  much  in  a  hurry  to  get  away  and 
find  this  jSTorah  I  had  only  one  short  interview  with 
Katie  and  she  —  scared  I  imagine  —  disclosed  as 
little  as  possible." 

"  Of  course  I'll  go  there  gladly,"  admitted  Mrs. 
TJpson  brightening,  "  but  —  but  — "  shyly,  "  can't 
you  get  away  and  go  with  me?  I  have  so  much  I 
want  to  talk  over  with  you  and  I  —  I  hate  to  be 
alone." 

"  I  would  do  it  cheerfully,"  Mark  responded, 
"  only  I  believe  it  would  spoil  your  chance  to  learn 
much  from  this  Katie.  My  being  there  would  shut 

her  up  like  a  clam.  I'll  go  to  B with  you," 

he  added,  after  a  pause  to  think  the  matter  over, 
"  then  on  to  see  my  old  friend,  Hinckley,  at  Good 

Will  Farm  and  meet  you  at  B say  two  days 

later.  Only  I  can't  start  until  day  after  to-morrow 
on  account  of  business  I've  neglected.  In  the 
meantime  you  can  look  the  city  over  and  this  even- 
ing we  can  go  to  a  theatre." 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  after  these  two  good 
friends  had  tried  to  forget  their  common  troubles 
for  two  evenings  at  playhouses  and  Mrs.  Upson, 


332  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

after  the  manner  of  her  sex,  had  shopped  all  one 
day  and  bought  only  a  few  pairs  of  gloves,  they  de- 
parted from  the  city  together. 

Neither  did  they  realize  how  by  an  almost  miracle 
of  chance  a  certain  and  much-wanted  young  girl  saw 
them  enter  a  theatre  or  what  its  effect  upon  her  was. 

The  program  as  agreed  upon  was  carried  out  and 
the  trip  to  Conway  Hollow  a  pleasant  one  for  Mrs. 
Upson,  for  the  haze  of  late  Indian  Summer  days 
softened  the  rugged  outlines  of  the  grand  old  moun- 
tains surrounding  it,  a  shade  of  yellow  and  scarlet 
still  tinged  the  sloping  hillsides  and  the  crisp  air 
added  zest  to  the  Barker  House  cuisine. 

"  Conway  Hollow  is  a  beautiful  nook  in  the  moun- 
tains," she  declared  when  they  met  again  at  B , 

"  and  its  scenic  attractions  are  wonderful.  I  took 
a  long  walk  up  the  gorge  and  found  myself  almost 
spellbound  by  the  towering  cliffs  that  shut  me  in. 
They  seemed  so  like  a  benediction  just  then  and 
realizing  how  my  poor,  lonely,  homeless  child  had 
been  there  all  summer,  woman-like  I  had  a  good  cry- 
ing spell.  I  haven't  learned  much,"  she  added  as 
if  again  on  the  verge  of  tears.  "  I  introduced  my- 
self as  an  aunt  of  Miss  Stone  anxious  to  find  her, 
but  as  you  said  she  has  kept  her  past,  and  future 
intentions,  an  absolute  secret.  Neither  did  this 
table  waitress,  Katie,  know  where  Norah  came  from. 


A    CONFEKENCE    OF    WAYS    AND    MEANS          333 

She  thought  it  was  Auburn  or  some  place  of  similar 
name  and  Mr.  Barker  was  as  uncertain.  This 
Norah  wrote  him  in  response  to  an  advertisement 
for  table  girls,  but  he  had  lost  the  letter  and  couldn't 
recall  where  it  was  dated.  The  one  and  only  tangi- 
ble clue  is  this  Mrs.  Davis  of  Wheeling,  West  Vir- 
ginia, who  had  stated  that  she  had  engaged  Myrtle 
for  a  companion  to  her  invalid  daughter.  I  have  al- 
ready written  Mrs.  Davis  an  almost  pitiful  letter 
and  am  hopeful  she  will  solve  the  mystery.  If  not, 
then  Myrtle  is  with  Norah  and  find  Norah  we  must. 
The  one  most  certain  proof  that  they  may  be  to- 
gether is,  it  is  believed  by  the  Barkers,  that  Myrtle 
had  been  converted  to  Catholicism  by  Nbrah  who 
was  a  most  devout  Catholic,  and  naturally  they 
would  keep  in  touch  with  one  another." 

"  I  don't  see  but  that  we  are  back  again  to  where 
I  left  off  to  find  Norah,"  and  Mark  sighed,  as  if  the 
problem  was  hopeless. 

"  There  are  exactly  forty-one  Cassidy  families  in 
Auburn,"  he  added  smiling,  "  with  fifteen  Norahs  in 
them,  not  one  our  Norah.  If  the  same  ratio  holds 
in  other  mill  towns  I  can  see  my  finish  —  an  insane 
asylum." 

"  Oh,  don't  despair,  my  dear  Mr.  Mason,"  re- 
sponded his  companion  who  felt  in  less  mood  for  a 
joke.  "  We  must  find  her,  or  I  shall  never  have 


334  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

another  happy  hour  in  my  life!  You  can't  under- 
stand my  feelings/'  she  added  wistfully,  "  I  am  a 
mother  whose  only  child  has  suddenly  risen  as  from 
the  dead." 

"  Yes,  I  realize  it,"  Mark  returned  more  soberly, 
"  and  you  must  pardon  my  jest.  In  spite  of  my 
own  longing,  my  all-day  pursuit  of  the  Cassidy  fam- 
ilies had  a  comical  side  you  see.  And  now  what 
do  you  say  to  going  to  Folly  Island  ?  "  he  added  after 
a  pause.  "  It's  not  far  from  here,  perhaps  seventy- 
five  miles,  we  can  stop  at  Burrville,  call  on  the  old 
farmer  who  was  so  good  to  poor  Myrtle,  and  drive 
from  there  to  Folly  Island." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  meet  my  father  now,"  interposed 
Mrs.  Upson  hurriedly,  "  I  should  forget  he  was  my 
father  may  be  and  —  and  —  oh  I  couldn't !  He 
was,  I  have  always  felt,  responsible  for  my  mother's 
death,  he  practically  forced  me  to  run  away  and  to  my 
ruin;  and  now  comes  this  last  outcome  of  his  brutal- 
ity. No,  I  never  want  to  look  upon  my  father's 
face  again." 

"  But  why  did  you  — "  Mark  rejoined  and  then 
paused  for  it  was  impossible  to  question  the  past 
action  of  this  woman.  She  had  suffered  enough. 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  you  would  ask,"  she  asserted 
hastily,  "  and  that  is  how  I  came  to  leave  my  babe 
with  him!  I  tell  you  I  hated  it  then,  God  forgive 


A  CONFERENCE  OF  WAYS  AND  MEANS    335 

me.  It  seemed  a  curse,  a  punishment,  and  he  re- 
sponsible for  it.  Oh,  I  was  almost  insane  then  I  as- 
sure you !  " 

"  Well,  forget  it  all,  forget  it  I  tell  you,"  Mark 
emphasized,  "  and  let  us  solve  and  end  our  present 
trouble,  my  dear  sister." 

Mark  wasn't  used  to  the  vagaries  of  womankind 
and  this  quite  contrawise  exhibition  of  feeling  was 
unexplainable. 

"  I  have  a  possible  hope,"  he  added  soothingly, 
"  that  Myrtle  may  have  returned  to  this  good  old 
farmer  Cony,  or  written  him  and  as  for  your  father, 
or  Sandy  Bay  people,  no  one  need  know  who  you 
are.  You  have  changed  so  much  since  a  girl,  you 
can  wear  a  thick  veil,  I  can  assert  you  are  my  sis- 
ter, and  so  you  see  you  can  go  with  me  and  no  one 
be  the  wiser.  You  need  not  even  meet  your  father, 
face  to  face.  He  will  avoid  me,  you  may  be  sure, 
if  he  can,  and  sees  me  first,  for  he  will  imagine  I 
am  after  him  for  money." 

"  Yes,  I  presume  so,"  responded  Mrs.  Upson,  who 
had  already  been  told  about  the  mortgage,  "  but  go- 
ing there  would  be  like  visiting  a  cemetery  where 
a  horrible  and  hated  past  was  buried." 

"  But  you'd  like  to  see  Myrtle's  flower  garden 
would'nt  you,"  Mark  inquired  tenderly,  "  and  her 
playhouse  ? " 


336  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

"  Oh  yes/'  she  rejoined  eagerly,  "  and  —  and  I 
will  go  with  you  if  you  wish." 

Mark  could  see  she  was  biting  her  lips  now,  and 
manlike  he  set  out  to  avoid  the  inevitable  tears. 

"  Well,"  he  said  hastily,  and  jerking  out  his 
watch,  "  we  have  just  about  time  for  dinner  and  the 
afternoon  train  for  Burrville.  We  can  stay  in  the 
little  hotel  there,  call  on  Farmer  Cony  in  the  even- 
ing, and  start  early  next  morning  for  Folly  Island. 
We  shall  need  to,  for  it's  nearly  twenty  miles  across 
country,  I  guess,  with  sandy  roads.  Now  when  we 
get  to  Burrville,"  he  cautioned,  "  I  shall  assert  that 
you  are  my  sister,  you  must  not  show  undue  emotion 
at  the  Conys'  or  anywhere,  and  all  will  go  well  as 
I  plan  it  if  you  act  the  sister  role,  and  as  if  inter- 
ested in  me  mainly."  Then  Mark,  well  versed  in 
the  world's  ways,  and  the  fine  art  of  dissembling  if 
need  be,  smiled  at  his  companion. 

"  I  think  I  can  assume  the  part  successfully,"  she 
answered  also  smiling  now,  "  for  I  feel  it  anyway 
and  will  reserve  my  tears  until  we  visit  poor  Myrtle's 
playhouse.  You  will  let  me  give  way  there  won't 
you?" 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can  weep  there  all  you  must,"  he 
admitted,  "  and  feel  I  am  with  you  in  spirit  for  I 
shall  be.  It  was  the  pathos  of  that  little  hut  that 
first  inspired  my  —  my  need  of  Myrtle." 


A    CONFERENCE    OF    WAYS    AND    MEANS          337 

But  Mrs.  Upson  was  not  an  over-chatty  compan- 
ion during  the  three-hour  ride  to  Burrville,  for  the 
coming  adventure  with  all  the  old  memories  it  was 
likely  to  evoke,  was  not  a  particularly  pleasant  one 
to  anticipate.  Mark,  versatile  man  that  he  was, 
tried  all  sorts  of  topics  foreign  to  what  was  in  her 
mind.  He  described  Good  Will  Farm,  his  early  life 
there,  Mr.  Hinckley  and  his  self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion to  his  work  and  what  he  had  done;  gave  a  dis- 
sertation on  philanthropy  in  general  and  how  few 
accomplish  more  than  to  perpetuate  their  name  in 
small  degree ;  tried  politics,  business,  and  the  growth 
of  the  trusts;  but  no  subject  seemed  to  interest  his 
companion.  Her  mind  was  on  Folly  Island  and  all 
that  made  her  girlhood  an  unhappy  memory  and 
finally  Mark  gave  it  up  and  betook  himself  to  the 
smoking  car  and  solace  in  a  cigar.  She  was  more 
companionable  after  the  Burrville  House  was 
reached  but  scarce  uttered  a  dozen  words  during  the 
call  on  Farmer  Cony.  Here,  also,  Mark  saw  her 
bite  her  lips  again  while  the  old  farmer  described 
how  he  found  "  the  poor  gal  clean  tuckered  out  in 
the  bushes,"  and  when  his  wife  as  a  climax  to  the 
story,  produced  Myrtle's  old  and  well-worn  men's 
shoes,  Mrs.  Upson  lost  control  of  herself  and  the 
tears  came. 

Little  did  those  two  worthy  old  people   realize, 


338  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

that  the  mature  and  well-gowned  lady  Mark  had  in- 
troduced as  "  my  sister,  Mrs.  Upson,"  was  this  run- 
away girl's  mother!  Only  that  she  must  be  of  an 
unusually  tender  and  sympathetic  nature. 

"  I  never  had  nothin'  quite  so  techin'  as  findin' 
that  gal  in  the  bushes,"  Farmer  Cony  declared  after 
the  story  had  been  told  and  retold  in  every  detail  by 
him.  "  'N'  then  she  sorter  took  me  'n'  mother  by 
storm,  ez  it  war,  in  no  time  'n'  so  I  was  ready  to 
'dopt  her  thar  V  then.  I  tried  my  best  to  keep 
her,"  he  added  sadly,  "  'n'  I'd  a  gi'n  her  good  wages 
just  to  hev  her  round,  she  war  that  takin'  in  her 
ways." 

"  I  wished  we  could  'a'  kept  her,"  Mrs.  Cony 
sighed  with  ample  dimensions,  "  for  'twould  a  saved 
a  heap  o'  trouble  'n'  worry,"  and  then  perforce  Mark 
had  to  go  all  over  the  manner  and  method  of  his 
search  so  far  and  its  outcome. 

"  I  was  in  hopes  she  might  have  come  back  to 
you,"  he  added  in  conclusion,  "  or  written,  may  be. 
We  are  going  to  drive  to  Folly  Island  so  my  sister 
can  see  that  barren  spot." 

"  Wai,  'tain't  an  over-comfortin'  one,"  Farmer 
Cony  asserted,  "  an'  I  don't  wonder  the  gal  run  away 
from  it.  I  druv  down  to  Sandy  Bay  arter  the  gal 
left  us,"  he  added,  glancing  at  Mark,  "  'n'  jist  axed 
one  or  two  questions  'bout  Cap'n  Jud  'n'  his  family. 


A    CONFERENCE    OF    WAYS    AND    MEANS          339 

I  never  let  on  'bout  the  gal,  though,  for  we  prom- 
ised her  we  never  would.  They  think  down  thar 
she  drownded  herself  'n'  they  say  Cap'n  Jud  has 
never  sot  foot  in  Sandy  Bay  since.  That  'twouldn't 
be  safe  fer  him  if  he  did.  I  s'pose  ye  know  all 
'bout  that,  though  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  Mark,  "  and  I  shall  not  con- 
tradict the  story  now  and  may  never  do  so." 

Then  he  glanced  at  Mrs.  Upson  who  he  knew  was 
unaware  of  this  outcome  of  Myrtle's  departure. 

"  Thar's  'nother  thing,"  Mr.  Cony  now  added, 
looking  curiously  at  Mrs.  Upson  and  then  at  Mark, 
"  'n'  that  is  that  gal  had  eyes  jist  like  your  sister  — 
like  ez  two  peas  in  a  pod  an' —  an'  I  s'pose  ye  know, 
Mr.  Mason,  she  called  herself  Iva  Stone  here  don't 
ye.  I  found  out  what  her  name  was,  though,  at 
Sandy  Bay." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know,"  rejoined  Mark  hastily,  "  and 
that  was  all  right,  I  told  her  to  do  it  for  reasons." 

The  call  was  terminated  soon  after  with  hand- 
shakes all  around  and  many  good  wishes  from  Far- 
mer Cony  and  "  mother."  Mark  also  bore  away  the 
pitiful  shoes  Myrtle  had  left  and  when  the  hotel  was 
reached  Mrs.  Upson  had  another  burst  of  tears  over 
them  in  the  seclusion  of  her  room. 

And  next  morning  they  both  started  for  Folly 
Island. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

A   CASE    OF    CONSCIENCE 

A  WISE  man  once  said  "  Conscience  makes  cow- 
ards of  us  all,"  which  is  true;  a  cynic  said  it  is  a 
matter  of  environment  or  the  haphazard  of  birth, 
which  isn't  true,  for  it  is  but  the  line  of  demarkation 
separating  man  from  beast.  In  some  cases,  also,  the 
line  curves  upward  and  many  a  human  being  never 
betrays  a  vestige  of  it  until  the  law  removes  him 
at  a  rope's  end,  while  now  and  then  a  four-footed 
creature,  human  in  every  particular  except  power 
of  speech,  has  a  conscience  well-defined  and  always 
active. 

Captain  Jud,  however,  had  a  conscience,  but  like 
late-grown  plants  it  never  matured  until  all  who 
knew  him  believed  he  had  none.  Or  rather  every 
surrounding  from  baby  days  when  his  mother  died 
and  he  grew  up  under  the  care  of  a  brutal  father 
who  hated  him,  all  experiences  conspired  to  make 
him  a  brute  also.  At  twelve  he  ran  away  from  a 
home  where  to  obtain  food  had  been  his  only  tie; 
he  next  obtained  the  promise  of  it  and  a  vague 

340 


A    CASE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  341 

something  more  if  he  joined  a  whaling  vessel  and 
did  so ;  four  years  of  this  life  served  to  develop  and 
mature  the  worst  in  him,  and  never  afterwards  dur- 
ing his  seafaring  life  was  he  aught  except  a  cold, 
hard,  selfish,  bumptious  brute,  who  never  gave  evi- 
dence of  possessing  a  conscience  or  much  that  is 
human  except  fear  of  law.  Folly  Island  with  the 
thorn  and  proof  of  his  daughter's  shame  as  an  added 
factor  made  him  hate  God  and  man  all  the  more,  his 
need  of  a  woman's  housekeeping  aid  all  that  made 
him  tolerate  his  sister,  but  after  the  poor,  helpless 
girl,  who  had  grown  up  his  slave,  ended  her  life  at 
the  bridge  —  as  he  believed  —  a  change,  slow  but 
sure  came  to  him. 

First,  it  was  the  missing  of  her  day  by  day  at 
the  wharf  when  he  returned  from  his  solitary  fishing 
trips  and  had  so  much  more  work  to  do.  Next,  the 
solemn  monotone  of  the  ocean,  its  moaning,  bellow- 
ing, and  when  storms  raged,  its  threatening  voice, 
began  to  say  things  to  him,  and  menacing  ones  at 
that!  Then  the  half -solitude  of  his  home  and  al- 
ways reproachful  eyes  of  his  sister  now  played  a 
part,  and  after  that  came  the  worst  and  final  blow 
to  his  feelings;  a  belief  that  the  spirit  of  this 
drowned  girl  was  haunting  the  island,  and  oft  he 
seemed  to  see  her  spectre  outlined  in  the  spray 
dashing  over  the  rocks  at  twilight.  Once,  and  the 


342  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

only  time  lie  ever  visited  her  playhouse,  he  was  sure 
he  saw  her  dart  from  it,  leap  down  over  the  near-by 
cliff  and  scream.  He  heard  her  footsteps  on  the 
wharf  many  a  time  when  he  came  in  late  after  dark, 
heard  them  in  the  fish-house  or  scampering  away  on 
the  pebbly  beach  in  front  of  it,  and  time  and  again 
saw  her  in  his  dreams  or  heard  her  voice.  No  ad- 
mission of  this  insidious,  carking  fear,  this  ghostly 
haunting  ever  fell  from  his  lips,  but  he  became  a 
changed  man,  and  from  the  day  Mark  presented 
himself  and  hurled  scornful  truths  at  him,  a  realiza- 
tion of  his  own  guilt  began  to  assail  him.  Then, 
too,  as  the  winter  drew  near  his  health  began  to 
fail,  his  joints  to  stiffen  with  rheumatism,  his 
strength  to  leave  him  and  he  to  realize  that  grim 
death  would  soon  claim  him  for  a  victim.  He  also 
now  feared  that  and  all  it  meant  as  never  before, 
and  to  see  himself  face  upward  in  a  coffin  and  buried 
for  his  eternal  sleep.  To  wonder  if  he  would  be 
conscious  of  that  awful  moment  or  ever  after  and 
who  would  mourn  for  him.  There  were  none  who 
would,  as  he  now  began  to  think,  and  then  the  un- 
solved problem  of  a  future  existence  also  recurred 
to  him.  He  had  been  an  infidel  and  scoffer  all  his 
life.  He  had  called  God  a  myth  of  the  imagina- 
tion, religion  the  palaverings  of  fools  and  hypocrites, 
had  scorned  the  idea  and  existence  of  either  heaven 


A    CASE    OF    CONSCIENCE  343 

or  hell  or  that  conscious  existence  continued  beyond 
death.  But  now  as  he  felt  the  dread  shadow  of  it 
nearing  him,  a  change  in  his  opinions  followed.  It 
might  have  been  ghostly  fear,  or  dread  of  the  grave, 
or  both ;  coupled  with  an  awakening  conscience ,  but 
something,  some  occult  influence  was  now  pursuing 
him,  he  realized,  and  he  scarce  dared  turn  around 
quickly  lest  he  find  himself  face  to  face  with  a  grim 
spectre,  and  to  hope  that  God's  existence  might  not 
be  a  myth  after  all  but  an  actual  reality.  Also  that 
he  would  continue  a  personage  beyond  death. 

With  this  awakening,  mainly  an  outcome  of  fear, 
came  another  and  that,  how  brutal  he  had  been  to 
his  own  flesh  and  blood,  his  daughter,  Myrtle,  and 
in  turn  to  her  deserted  child.  He  began  to  see  him- 
self as  he  was,  a  cold,  selfish,  merciless  brute  with- 
out one  throb  or  thrill  of  heart-impulse  in  him !  To 
realize  that  he  alone  had  driven,  first  the  mother 
away,  and  then  her  child ;  to  end  a  miserable  life  — 
made  so  by  him  —  in  the  swirling  eddies  under  the 
bridge.  To  see  her  sinking  there  with  one  last  de- 
spairing look  up,  aye,  hear  her  gasp  for  one  more 
breath  as  the  pitiless  water  choked  her !  Many  a 
time  had  this  scene  returned  to  torture  him,  now  it 
became  an  ever  present  one  in  waking  hours,  and 
even  made  sleep  hideous. 

His   waning   strength   and   stiffened   joints   these 


344  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

November  days  also  kept  him  from  fishing.  He 
could  no  longer  readily  launch  or  at  least  draw  his 
dory  out  of  the  water,  or  when  he  did  could  swing 
the  oars  without  intense  pain  in  back  and  arms. 
He  began  to  grow  afraid  of  wind  and  wave,  to  see 
himself  grasped  by  these  forces  and  swept  far  to  sea- 
ward to  starve  or  be  engulfed  by  them,  and  slowly 
to  become  a  helpless,  cowardly  man,  afraid  to  live 
and  more  afraid  to  die. 

And  this  was  Captain  Judson  Baldwin,  the  once 
brave  if  brutal  sailor,  who  feared  neither  wave, 
storm,  or  the  wrath  of  God  but  now  reduced  to  an 
almost  helpless,  ghost-haunted,  death-dreading, 
craven,  despised  by  all  who  knew  him. 

But  worse  fear  and  greater  punishment  were  yet 
to  come. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

ON   A  LONELY  ROCK-BOUND   COAST 

NEVER  before  had  Mark  begun  a  day's  journey  so 
oppressed  as  when  he  and  his  companion,  Mrs.  Up- 
son,  started  for  Folly  Island.  The  day  was  a  fair 
November  one  when  summer  seems  parting  from 
life  in  balmy  haze  and  ambient  sky  with  halo  of 
scarlet  and  brown.  A  last  warm  embrace  of  mellow 
sunshine  and  glowing  color.  The  road,  seldom 
traveled,  led  through  miles  of  scrub  oak  whose  tinted 
leaves  rustled  in  the  soft  breeze,  or  across  wide  ex- 
panses of  sand  upon  which  grew  scattered  patches  of 
sedge  grass.  Now  and  then  a  clump  of  dwarfed 
pines  was  met,  with  the  voice  of  the  distant  ocean 
murmuring  through  them  like  a  requiem.  Conver- 
sation between  these  two,  both  feeling  much  the 
same,  was  desultory  at  first  and  then  Mrs.  Upson, 
who  really  had  the  more  reason  for  sadness,  woman- 
like bethought  herself  to  try  to  entertain  Mark,  as 
any  cultured  lady  would  by  getting  him  to  talk. 

"  I  recall  at  our  first  meeting,  Mr.  Mason,"  she 
345 


346  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

said,  "  how  you  extolled  the  Masonic  fraternity  and 
seemed  proud  to  be  one  of  them.  Do  many  of  you 
travelling  men  belong  to  the  order  2 " 

"  No,  I  am  sorry  to  say  not,"  returned  Mark, 
glad  she  had  introduced  this  topic,  "  only  a  small 
percentage,  to  the  best  of  my  observation,  and  they 
the  foremost  of  our  class.  I  can't  understand  it, 
either,  for  I  do  not  think  any  wise  man  can  afford 
not  to  be  a  Mason!  It's  an  order  thousands  of 
years  old,  the  strongest  and  most  far  reaching  so- 
cially and  fraternally  of  any  secret  society  known, 
the  very  best  men  in  every  community  are  within 
its  folds,  and  how  any  sensible  travelling  man  can 
stay  out  is  beyond  me.  Then,  again,  to  belong  to  it 
is  an  honor  all  good  men  should  desire,  its  moral  in- 
fluence is  beyond  question,  fully  equal  to  that  of  the 
churches,  and  all  in  all  Masonry  is  a  religious  con- 
version in  a  way.  In  fact,  to  believe  in  God,  be  a 
helping  brother  to  all  brother  Masons,  live  right  and 
do  right,  may  be  called  its  corner  stones.  Its  pre- 
cepts also  are  as  praiseworthy  and  faith  in  God,  hope 
for  the  millenium  and  charity  towards  all  humanity 
fairly  expresses  them.  Neither  can  any  man  as- 
sume the  solemn  obligations  of  Masonry  without 
being  made  a  better  man  and  worthy  of  more  re- 
spect." 

"  I  see  you  are  an  enthusiastic  one,"  smiled  Mrs. 


ON   A    LONELY    ROCK-BOUND    COAST  347 

TJpson,  glancing  at  Mark,  "  and  it  was  that  which  so 
won  my  confidence  in  you  the  day  we  first  met.  I 
also  recalled  the  fact  that  a  scoundrel  I  once  knew 
asserted  Masons  were  a  band  of  hypocrites." 

"  Yes,"  interrupted  Mark  hastily,  "  a  band  that 
doubtless  rejected  him  for  ample  reasons,  as  the  fra- 
ternity always  will.  A  few  black  sheep  may  now 
and  then  sneak  in,  but  it's  seldom.  A  man's  habits, 
principles,  and  character  are  put  on  trial  the  moment 
he  presents  his  application  for  Masonic  degrees  and 
it's  hopeless  if  there  is  any  serious  question  about 
them.  It's  that  that  has  made  the  order  the  power 
it  is. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  if  a  brother  falls  by  the 
wayside,  so  to  speak,"  added  Mark  a  moment  later, 
t(  and  will  show  the  slightest  sign  of  regret  and  ef- 
fort to  do  better,  there  are  a  thousand  helping  hands 
ready  and  anxious  to  assist  him.  (  Charity  for  all/ 
is  a  Masonic  watchword." 

"  And  can  there  be,  is  there  any  way  in  which,  or 
by  which  your  order  can  punish  a  scamp  not  in  it  ?  " 
queried  Mrs.  Upson,  after  a  pause.  "  You  know 
what  I  mean,  Mr.  Mason,  and  whom  I  mean." 

"  Why  yes,  plenty,"  Mark  returned,  smiling,  "  for 
while  a  Masonic  lodge  is  not  a  law  court  its  power 
is  far  more  reaching  in  a  quiet  way,  and  once  a 
scoundrel's  dastardly  act  is  circulated  among  Ma- 


348  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

sons  he  will  feel  this  power  soon  enough  and  in  a 
way  he  won't  enjoy.  There  are  many  doors  in 
social  and  business  life,  Mrs.  Upson.  I  know  of 
whom  and  what  you  are  thinking,  so  leave  your 
wrongs  to  me.  I  can  and  will  see  they  are  avenged. 
And  now,"  he  added  to  change  the  subject,  "  where 
do  you  think  Myrtle  is-?  Where  in  your  woman's 
intuition,  or  mother's  rather,  do  you  think  we  best 
go  next  ?  " 

"  I  am  utterly  in  the  dark  on  that  point,"  sighed 
Mrs.  Upson,  "  for  her  steps  are  almost  sure  to  be 
governed  by  one  of  two  motives,  to  find  you  if  she 
has  faith  you  wanted  her  to  do  so;  if  not,  she  is 
either  with  this  Norah  or  will  keep  her  informed 
of  where  she  is.  The  fact  they  went  away  together, 
that  previous  to  that  they  were  not  only  good 
friends  but  in  religious  sympathy,  makes  this  course 
seem  positive  to  me.  As  for  Myrtle  writing  you  or 
looking  for  you,  it  will  all  depend  upon  how  much 
love-assurance  you  gave  her.  If  she  is  like  me  in 
nature,  which  I  assume  is  probable,  she  will  never 
even  write  you  unless  very  certain  that  you  ex- 
pected she  would.  How  is  it,  Mr.  Mason?  Did 
you  give  her  any  positive  expressions  in  that  con- 
nection ?  It's  a  delicate  question  to  ask  a  man, 
but  my  opinion  of  her  actions  hinges  on  that 
point." 


ON    A    LONELY    ROCK-BOUND    COAST  349 

"  Mr.  Hinckley  asked  the  same  question/'  re- 
turned Mark  soberly,  "  and  for  the  same  reason.  I 
have  no  concealments  in  the  matter  or  anything  to 
be  ashamed  of.  I  did  not  begin  to  desire  Myrtle  for 
my  wife  until  after  I  left  her.  I  did  not  give  her 
any  assurance  of  love  —  except  a  brother's  or  fath- 
er's, and  those  are  the  facts.  What  I  did  for  her 
however  —  you  know  what  it  was  and  how  much  — 
seems  to  me  ample  reason  why  she  should  trust  me 
further  and  not  feel  reticence  or  reserve,  at  least  to 
the  extent  of  now  ignoring  me.  She  must  know  I 
meant  to  be  an  honorable  friend  and  wished  to  help 
her." 

"  True  enough,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Upson,  earnestly, 
"  and  so  you  were.  But  a  young  girl's  heart  or  the 
budding  of  her  love  is  a  peculiar  illusion,  an  occult 
motive-force  over  which  pride  stands  like  an  ogre. 
A  menacing  censor,  as  it  were,  saying  no  to  ordinary 
reason  and  conduct.  If  assured  she  is  loved,  is 
wanted,  she  would  almost  fly  to  the  arms  of  the  man 
she  loves;  if  not  so  assured  and  in  positive  words, 
no  power  on  earth  can  make  her  take  one  step  to- 
wards him.  And  the  prouder-spirited  she  is,  the 
firmer  she  will  hold  herself  aloof." 

"  I  guess  it's  find  Norah  first,"  sighed  Mark,  con- 
scious now  ae  never  before  how  and  where  he  stood 
in  this  heart  affair.  "  I  lost  my  golden  chance  when 


350  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

I  left  Folly  Island  and  trusted  in  a  letter.  Mr. 
Hinckley  was  right,  and  I  was  a  fool." 

"  No,"  smiled  Mrs.  Upson,  "  not  a  fool.  Only 
a  thoughtless  man  not  yet  in  love.  A  woman's 
heart  is  like  a  bit  of  wind-blown  thistle  down,  to  be 
caught  as  gently  and  quickly.  Once  the  psychic 
moment  comes  within  a  man's  reach  it  must  be 
seized  on  the  instant  or  lost." 

For  a  long  two  hours  more  these  two  companions, 
joined  in  hopes  and  plans,  discussed  this  one  most 
pertinent  yet  elusive  subject  but  never  once  reach- 
ing a  probable  solution.  Myrtle's  life  at  Conway 
Hollow,  now  fully  known  by  Mrs.  Upson,  was  gone 
over  by  her  even  to  minute  details  none  but  a  woman 
would  find  out.  How  secretive  she  was,  how  unap- 
proachable, what  people  thought  of  her  and  why, 
how  Mrs.  Barker  felt,  the  reason  of  Katie's  jealousy, 
and  a  hundred  other  trifling  facts.  Then  this  fruit- 
less subject  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  sign-board 
with  "  Sandy  Bay  two  miles,"  facing  them  at  cross- 
roads. 

"  Now  you  must  prepare  for  familiar  faces  and 
your  sister  role,"  ejaculated  Mark.  "Also  put  on  a 
cold,  impassive  stare." 

"  I  shall  try  to  look  and  act  the  part,"  she  re- 
turned, producing  a  thick  brown  veil  awl  winding  it 
around  face  and  hat,  "  and  hope  we  shall  neither 


ON  A  LONELY  KOCK-BOUND  COAST      351 

meet  or  you  be  forced  to  speak  to  anyone  you  know. 
I  feel  fairly  safe,  however,"  she  added  sadly,  "  for 
it's  over  twenty  years  since  I  left  Folly  Island,  an 
ill-clad  girl,  and  I  won't  be  recognized  now,  I  am 
sure." 

"  Not  so  concealed,  certainly,"  Mark  rejoined, 
glancing  at  her,  "  and  neither  shall  I  give  anyone 
much  chance  to  speak  to  us.  We  will  drive  right 
through  the  village  without  a  halt  and  on  down  to 
the  bridge.  Here  I  can  hitch  our  horse  and  we  can 
avoid  going  within  sight  of  your  old  home  by  fol- 
lowing the  shore  down  to  the  point  where  poor  Myr- 
tle built  her  playhouse.  I  am  sure  you  would  not 
care  to  meet  your  father  now,  and  I  have  no  wish 
to." 

"  I  do  and  I  do  not,"  she  answered  slowly,  "  or 
rather  I  have  only  a  morbid  curiosity  to  see  how 
much  he  has  changed.  While  he  is  still  my  father, 
his  cruelty  so  wrecked  my  life  that  all  filial  love 
died  long  ago.  If  I  could  see  him  and  he  not  know 
it,  I  would  like  to,"  she  added  after  a  pause,  "  but 
I  presume  that  would  be  impossible." 

"  Better  not  try  it,"  Mark  rejoined  tersely,  "  for 
with  his  insane  temper  there  is  no  telling  what  he 
would  do." 

The  drive  through  Sandy  Bay  was,  as  she  ex- 
pected, a  painful  ordeal  to  Mrs.  Upson,  yet  a  brief 


352  MYRTLE 

one,  for  Mark  hurried  on  and  she  had  time  only  for 
a  mere  glance  at  Orton's  store,  the  canning  factory, 
the  one  church  and  scattered  houses, —  all  familiar 
to  her  —  while  Mark  watched  her  covertly.  It  was 
a  trying  one  as  well  for  despite  her  veil  Mark  saw 
that  her  face  was  drawn  and  lips  set  the  while  and 
once  when  he  chanced  to  touch  her  arm  he  fancied  it 
trembled.  A  sigh  of  relief  escaped  her  also  after 
the  last  house  was  passed. 

"  I  am  so  glad  no  one  met  us  in  the  road,"  she 
then  exclaimed  almost  elated,  "  for  I  felt  like  Lady 
Godiva,  or  as  if  all  my  painful  past  was  exposed  to 
Sandy  Bay." 

And  then  Mark  glanced  at  her  with  a  new  curi- 
osity for  the  complex  outcome  of  her  life  and  feel- 
ings was  beyond  him.  More  than  that  and  in  so 
trusting  herself  and  them  with  him,  she  had  shown 
the  same  blind  faith  and  intuitive  confidence  Myrtle 
had  at  the  outset  and  equally  nattering.  It  made 
no  difference,  however.  His  sense  of  honor  was  so 
keen  she  could  confide  her  very  soul  as  it  were  in 
him  with  never  a  fear  of  betrayal.  For  that  was 
Mark  Mason. 

"  You  know  my  shibboleth  in  all  cases  of  what  we 
can't  help  ?  "  he  rejoined,  after  the  long  pause. 

"Why  no,  what  is  it?" 

"  Forget  it,  my  friend,   forget  it   and  think   of 


ON    A    LONELY    ROCK-BOUND    COAST  353 

something  else,"  he  answered  encouragingly. 
"  There's  two  things  it  doesn't  pay  to  worry  about 
in  life,  those  troubles  we  can  help  and  those  we 
can't.  If  you  can  help  them,  do  it,  if  not,  forget 
them.  ]STow  you  can't  help  your  blind  trust  in  a 
villain  and  its  result.  You  are  not  the  first  girl  so 
wronged,  you  won't  be  the  last  one,  so  forget  it. 
There  is  another  possible  outcome  to  your  life,"  he 
continued  assuringly,  "  you  are  not,  as  I  understand 
it,  in  anyway  obligated  to  remain  in  Glendale  or 
maintain  your  home  there.  Those  grown-up  chil- 
dren of  Mr.  TJpson's  have  means,  relations,  and  can 
shift  for  themselves.  Now  we  are  going  to  find 
Myrtle  if  I  live  to  do  it,  and  then  I  am  satisfied  you 
will  make  a  most  desirable  mother-in-law  for  us. 
They  are  not  so  as  a  rule,  according  to  the  profes- 
sional joke-makers,  but  my  opinion  is  otherwise," 
and  then  Mrs.  Upson  gave  him  a  grateful  look  and 
winked  away  the  mist  from  her  eyes. 

She  wasn't  used  to  having  a  big,  strong,  manly 
man  talk  to  her  that  way. 

At  the  bridge  Mark  halted,  hitched  their  docile 
steed  to  a  convenient  sapling  and  helped  his  com- 
panion out  of  the  carriage. 

"  Here  is  where  Myrtle  and  I  did  a  little  court- 
ing," he  now  asserted  jocularly,  "  and  talked  moony, 
moony  talk  two  blissful  hours.  I  assure  you  also  I 


354  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

felt  like  a  bashful  schoolboy  and  didn't  even  dare 
kiss  her  —  not  once.  I  wish  I  had  now,"  he  added 
candidly,  "  but  she  was  so  tender  and  confiding  I 
was  afraid  to  shock  her  so." 

"  You  are  unlike  most  men,"  Mrs.  TJpson  returned 
smiling  at  his  admission.  "  They  seem  to  think  the 
sooner  they  can  assume  such  intimate  relations,  the 
better  and  that  a  young  girl's  modesty  must  be  over- 
come at  sight." 

But  such  pleasant  badinage  now  seemed  out  of 
place  to  both  these  two  and  their  errand  here  a  seri- 
ous matter.  Mark  was  made  to  feel  it  so  by  his 
companion's  sobered  face,  at  least,  and  soon  led  the 
way  around  the  shore  of  Folly  Island  opposite  to  the 
wharf  and  down  to  the  Cove  where  Myrtle  had  fed 
her  gulls.  Here  they  ascended  the  bolder  cliff  and 
halted  beside  the  inlet. 

"  There,"  he  said  pointing  to  a  niche  in  the  rocks, 
"  was  where  Myrtle  sat  the  first  time  I  spoke  to  her 
and  —  barefoot.  You  now  have  also,  in  the  carriage, 
the  very  same  shoes  I  saw  that  day  beside  her  and 
which  she  wore  away  from  the  island." 

"  Yes,  poor  child,"  sighed  her  mother,  "  and  I  shed 
penitent  tears  over  them  last  night." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  returned  Mark  hastily,  re- 
alizing his  error,  and  not  another  word  of  what  he 
now  saw  would  pain  her  fell  from  his  lips  while  on 


ON  A  LONELY  ROOK-BOUND  COAST     355 

the  island.  To  him,  also,  this  visit  now  seemed  like 
one  to  a  cemetery  and  that  sad  impress  was  accentu- 
ated by  the  poor,  pitiful  hut  he  next  led  his  com- 
panion to.  It  had  not  changed  nor  been  disturbed 
during  all  the  months  since  he  and  this  fisher-maid 
had  met  beside  it.  Like  a  little  temple  of  loneli- 
ness, a  monument  to  childhood  days  it  still  peeped 
out  of  its  coign  above  the  wide,  solemn  ocean.  The 
grass,  no  longer  trodden,  had  grown  thick  about  it; 
a  few  weeds  now  choked  its  doorway,  vines  brown 
and  withered  had  climbed  over  it  and,  most  pitiful 
touch  of  all,  a  tiny  bed  of  dead  leaves  had  been 
wind-swept  into  it.  The  little  old  backless  chair  was 
still  within,  the  box  still  held  its  four  books,  but  a 
coating  of  gray  mold  covered  chair  and  box  and  books 
alike. 

Mrs.  Upson  had  said  she  would  reserve  her  tears 
for  this  pathetic  handiwork  of  her  child  and  she  had 
done  so.  But  now  as  she  stood  beside  it,  realizing 
its  mute  message  of  lonely  hours  spent  in  its  build- 
ing, and  how  right  here,  with  only  the  sad  sea  waves 
for  company,  her  own  deserted  babe,  a  child  woman- 
grown,  had  found  satisfaction  in  a  solitude  that  yet 
was  pathetic;  the  tears  came  and  sobs  as  well  that 
shook  her  frame  as  none  in  her  life  before  ever  had ! 

And  well  they  might,  for  here,  in  this  lone  rock- 
environed  niche  with  only  God  and  the  wide  ocean 


356  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

for  companions,  her  own  child  had  found  what  few 
children  can  find,  a  consolation  in  solitude  and  the 
building  of  a  playhouse.  And  how  more  than  piti- 
ful, almost  tragic,  that  poor  hut  now  seemed  to  this 
mother.  Bit  by  bit  even  as  its  walls  had  been  erected, 
so  now  its  silent  voice  reached  her  heart.  Aye,  even 
as  the  grass-grown  mound  above  some  loved  one 
reaches  all  our  hearts,  so  this  reached  hers  until  with 
the  stifled  sobs  of  a  mother's  love  she  knelt  beside 
it  in  a  paroxysm  of  sorrow  to  clasp  and  caress  its  cold 
stones.  Even  Mark,  strong  man  that  he  was,  felt 
his  own  eyes  grow  misty,  for  this  girl  had  grown  into 
his  very  soul  during  these  long,  weary,  waiting 
months,  and  somehow,  despite  all  hope,  it  now  seemed 
as  if  he  were  standing  beside  her  grave.  More  than 
that,  the  mournful  booming  of  billows  just  below 
them  and  far  up  the  shore  sounded  like  a  dirge  and 
the  incessant  rattle  of  wave-washed  pebbles  like  that 
of  bones. 

The  little  garden,  too,  just  back  and  above  here 
they  next  visited,  only  added  pathos,  for  most  of  its 
water-starved  flowers  had  died  from  thirst,  the  rest 
had  yielded  to  frost  and  their  dry  brown  leaves  were 
blowing  away.  Only  a  mere  glance  did  Mrs.  Upson 
give  this  and  then  turned  to  Mark. 

"  I've  seen  enough  to  almost  break  my  heart,"  she 
said,  "  but  somehow  I  can't  go  away  without  a  look 


ON  A  LONELY  BOCK-BOUND  COAST      357 

at  the  wharf  and  fish-house  where  my  child  was  made 
to  slave.  Do  you  think  I  can  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  responded  Mark  glancing  around  over 
the  ocean,  "  your  fa  —  Cap'n  Jud,  I  mean,  may  be, 
most  likely  is  away  fishing  to-day,  it  being  so  warm, 
and  we  can  go  up  the  island  and  reconnoitre.  If  he 
isn't  to  be  seen  anywhere  I  guess  you  can  risk  it 
safely.  I'll  go  on  ahead  as  a  sort  of  spy.  I  think," 
he  added  after  a  moment's  consideration,  "you  had 
best  go  to  the  wharf  alone  and  meet  me  later  at  the 
bridge  for  obvious  reasons." 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  Mark,  after  seeing  the 
coast  was  clear  or  no  one  at  the  wharf,  so  signalled 
his  companion  and  then  betook  himself  by  a  circuitous 
course  back  to  the  bridge  again,  lit  a  cigar  and  sat 
down  to  contemplate  the  inflowing  tide  and  live  over 
the  pathetic  memories  clustering  about  the  spot.  A 
more  pathetic  and  retrospective  episode  was  at  the 
same  time  being  enacted  at  the  wharf  for  Mrs.  Upson 
finding  it  deserted  and  feeling  herself  safely  alone 
here,  began  a  hurried  examination  of  the  premises 
with  now  and  then  a  furtive  glance  toward  the  house 
whose  upper  part  only  was  visible.  The  wharf,  its 
weed-draped  float,  the  weather-beaten  fishhouse  and 
old  barnacled  wreck  forming  a  sea  barricade  for  all, 
had  not  changed  much  since  her  girlhood  days.  The 
same  piles  of  wreckage,  rusting  anchor  chain,  broken 


358  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

lobster  pots,  rotting  fish  nets,  and  flotsam  of  a  fisher- 
man's calling  were  scattered  all  about,  and  even  more 
makeshift  and  untidy  than  when  she,  as  a  girl,  also 
slaved  here.  A  few  more  worse-for-use  pots,  broken 
oars,  and  more  gathered  wreckage  may  be,  with  a 
stove-in  dory  bottom-up  behind  a  rock  formed  all  the 
change  she  could  recall,  and  for  the  rest  it  was  as 
in  the  long  ago  of  her  life  and  as  offensive  to  eyes 
and  nose.  But  it  held  a  certain  pathos,  also,  for 
here  she  had  grown  to  young  womanhood  amid  filthy 
and  abhorrent  surroundings.  And  now  seating  her- 
self in  a  convenient  hollow  in  the  side  of  a  boulder 
back  of  the  fish  house  somewhat  out  of  sight  from 
the  wharf  —  a  niche  attractive  in  her  young  days  be- 
cause of  its  shaded  seclusion  —  she  began  to  live  them 
over  once  more.  They  were  not  such  as  she  cared 
to  dwell  upon  long,  not  even  the  few  school  days  at 
Sandy  Bay,  poisoned  as  they  were  by  all  that  awaited 
her  here.  But  come  back  now  they  would  in  spite 
of  will  or  wishes,  a  series  of  blank,  hopeless  days 
with  never  a  shred  of  love  or  tenderness  in  them 
until  the  end  came  in  a  carefully  planned  going 
away.  A  deliberate,  desperate  step  to  escape  Folly 
Island.  And  then  its  outcome,  her  chance  meeting 
with  and  hasty  wooing  by  a  handsome  man.  Her 
almost  insane  step,  a  marriage  within  a  few  days, 
and  without  a  single  witness  —  all  a  part  of  his  plot 


ON  A  LONELY  ROCK-BOUND  COAST      359 

as  she  afterwards  realized  —  and  then  its  finale  of 
soul-searing  shame,  tears,  entreaties,  curses  even,  and 
the  almost  delirious  state  of  mind  that  followed  when 
she  came  here  afoot  one  moonlight  night  to  escape  its 
burden  and  leave  her  babe  as  a  reproach  and  taunt 
to  her  father.  Like  a  curse,  her  own  act  had  now 
returned  to  smite  her,  and  she  now  realized  that  all 
the  bitters  tears  so  far  shed  this  day  were  but  a  just 
punishment. 

And  then  her  recent  awakening  from  this  moral 
lethargy  now  came  back,  and  as  she  lived  over  the 
horror  of  her  own  life  here ;  conscious  that  she  her- 
self had  meted  the  same  to  her  helpless  child,  all  the 
cruelty  of  that  act,  its  unspeakable  cowardice  and 
worse  than  selfishness  also  returned.  For  years  she 
had  lived  but  to  forget  all  this  and  her  own  crime. 
For  years  she  had  put  it  away  believing  it  was  a  dead 
and  gone  past,  a  sin  she  would  never  be  called  upon 
to  expiate.  But  like  Banquo's  ghost  it  had  risen  up 
to  confront  her,  aye,  pursue  her  all  through  life  in 
vengeance.  And  now  with  everything  about  her  to 
remind  her  of  the  utter  atrocity  of  her  act,  she  could 
only  sit  and  suffer  in  dumb,  hopeless,  helpless,  silent 
misery;  scarce  conscious  of  where  she  was  or  the 
lapse  of  time.  She  had  meant  to  remain  here  only 
five  minutes  at  most,  in  reality  her  living  over  by- 
gones and  all  the  self-reproaches  following  consumed 


360  MYRTLE  BALDWIN 

an  hour  and  then  she  awoke  to  the  fact  she  had  tar- 
ried longer  than  she  ought  and  rose  to  leave  the 
spot. 

And  now  a  queer  thing  happened,  for  Cap'n  Jud 
—  enfeebled  as  he  was  by  many  months  of  haunted, 
almost  sleepless  nights  and  oft  seeing  the  spectral 
face  of  his  grandchild  here  or  elsewhere  —  had  en- 
tered the  cove  unobserved  by  Mrs.  TJpson,  drawn  his 
dory  out  upon  the  float  and  barefoot  as  usual  walked 
noiselessly  up  the  wharf  just  as  she  stepped  out 
upon  it  from  behind  the  fish-house.  Neither  saw  the 
other  until  this  moment  and  then  their  eyes  met. 
And  now  one  instant  of  utter,  unspeakable  horror, 
came  to  him,  for  he  saw,  not  the  flesh-and-blood 
woman  staring  at  him  in  sudden  dismay,  but  the 
spectral  form  of  his  own  child  confronting  him! 
One  moment  was  his  tottering  reason  able  to  stand 
this  awful,  unexpected  strain;  the  next  it  fled,  and 
with  a  curse  and  yell  of  terror  he  sprang  from  the 
wharf  and  ran  for  the  house  as  if  demons  pursued. 

And  Mrs.  Upson,  shocked  as  never  before  by  what 
almost  seemed  the  ghost  of  her  father  sank  to  the 
wharf  in  a  swoon.  Only  for  a  moment  did  it  last, 
then  recovering,  she,  too,  ran  from  the  accursed  spot 
and  up  to  the  bridge  with  never  a  halt  for  breath ! 

"  Why,  what  has  happened  ?  "   Mark  almost  de- 


ON    A    LONELY    ROCK-BOUND    COAST  361 

manded  when  she  reached  it  panting,  "  You  look  as 
if  you  had  met  a  ghost !  " 

"  I  have,"  she  gasped,  "  the  ghost  of  my  father, 
I  thought  for  a  moment,  and  he  I  am  sure  believed 
I  was  an  actual  one !  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  Mark  returned  grimly,  "  and  that 
he  will  never  learn  otherwise.  My  wish  is  that  he 
may  have  all  the  mental  suffering  he  so  well  deserves 
and  that  never  again  will  he  know  peace  of  mind." 

And  then  they  drove  away  from  the  this  ill-omened 
spot  and  not  until  Sandy  Bay  was  well  behind  and 
they  reached  the  seclusion  of  the  seldom  traveled, 
bush-bordered  road  once  more,  did  either  speak  and 
then  it  was  Mark. 

"  Folly  Island,  Folly  Island,"  he  then  exclaimed 
in  derision  as  if  addressing  it,  "  and  rightly  named 
you  are !  Two  lives  wrecked  upon  you,  the  home  of 
a  human  brute  as  well  and  now  a  spot  accursed  of 
God  and  man  I  " 

"  But  the  sun  may  shine  and  happiness  come  to 
you  and  someone  else  there  sometime,"  responded  his 
companion  softly,  "  so  do  not  scoff  at  inanimate  rocks. 
You  may  even  feel  thankful  you  first  set  foot  on  it, 
some  day.  Let  us  hope  so  at  least." 

"  Yes,  let  us  hope  so,"  he  returned  grimly,  "  but 
it  all  hinges  on  finding  someone." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

ONE  GRAIN  OF  SAND 

A  GREAT  city  is  a  beast,  a  monster  Gorgon,  allur- 
ing, fascinating,  nerve-destroying,  merciless.  A 
huge  hive  of  restless,  selfish,  almost  heartless  hu- 
manity, ever  pushing  and  crowding  one  another  in  a 
mad  pursuit  of  dollars  and  pleasure,  and  Athens  was 
no  exception.  It  had,  as  stated,  a  superior  cult  who 
made  a  pretense  of  moral  activity  and  literary 
acumen,  who  supported  its  churches  munificiently, 
and  ignored  the  tens  of  thousands  who  barely  kept 
soul  and  body  together  or  else  were  forced  to  sell 
souls  to  save  their  bodies. 

It  had  a  mayor,  also,  who  prated  about  a  "  bigger, 
busier,  better "  Athens,  and  zealously  advertised 
himself  and  the  city.  It  had  law  and  order,  as  well, 
in  the  persons  of  many  well-fed  policemen  who 
pocketed  a  rake-off  for  protecting  vice  and  crime, 
and  bellowed  at  and  browbeat  poor  wretches  for 
trifling  sins.  It  had  a  district  attorney  whose  prin- 
cipal asset  was  fluency  of  speech,  and  sole  ambition, 
political  advancement,  and  to  keep  in  the  limelight 

362 


ONE    GRAIN    OF    SAND  363 

by  any  and  every  pretense.  It  also  had  taxes  galore, 
fully  one-third  of  which  were  disbursed  in  graft,  and 
a  debt  that  was  appalling.  All  of  these  Athens  — 
like  many  another  city  —  had,  in  ample  supply,  and 
into  this  modern  Sodom  and  Gomorrah ;  this  hive  of 
selfishness,  conceit,  much  vice  and  little  virtue ;  Myr- 
tle Baldwin,  the  erstwhile  waif  of  Folly  Island  had 
now  domiciled  herself  to  earn  an  honest  living.  Her 
wits  were  keen,  experience  nil,  heart  tender  and  her 
sole  means  to  combat  this  crowd  was  a  willingness 
to  work,  a  scant  wardrobe,  and  about  forty  dollars 
in  money  above  the  one  hundred  she  had  faithfully 
saved  from  her  wages  to  pay  Mark  Mason  —  some- 
time. 

He  also,  was  the  actual  and  only  magnet  that  had 
drawn  her  into  this  vortex;  to  go  to  his  office  some 
day  when  she  could  muster  the  courage  had  been 
her  intent ;  and  then  to  say  "  Here  is  your  money,  I 
have  kept  faith  with  you  in  all  ways  and  obeyed 
your  orders  as  well."  This  and  so  much  she  had 
planned  to  do  and  could  without  shame;  for  the  rest 
and  her  future  it  must  all  turn  upon  how  he  received 
her  then.  But  now  after  four  months  of  neglect 
from  him  her  courage  began  to  fail  and  she  to  feel 
such  a  step  nearly  impossible. 

And  yet  she  still  owed  him  this  money? 

Almost  her  first  act  after  securing  a  position  at 


364  MYKTLE    BALDWIN 

"  The  Emporium  "  had  been  to  examine  a  directory 
and  "Mark  Mason,  Forty-two  Bank  Street,  Resi- 
dence, The  Elms,"  had  given  her  a  keen  thrill  of 
joy.  At  least  this  great  city  held  one  man  who  had 
been  both  good  and  tender  to  her  and  for  whom  she 
would  almost  give  her  soul  in  recompense.  But 
he  had  never  answered  her  letter !  In  her  innocence 
she  supposed  he  must  have  received  it,  and  pride 
now  became  a  barrier  to  seeking  him.  On  the  other 
hand,  she  felt  that  she  must  return  this  loan  —  he 
had  said  it  was  one  to  be  given  back  and  it  must  be . 
But  again  that  necessitated  going  to  him,  and  once 
more  pride  made  her  hesitate  and  put  it  off  until 
some  future  day,  or  perhaps  she  might  meet  him  go- 
ing or  coming  from  her  work.  That  also  now  be- 
came an  imprisonment  from  eight-thirty  until  six 
with  half  an  hour  for  lunch,  and  the  walk  to  M 
street,  two  miles,  consumed  another  hour.  The  ques- 
tion of  ways  and  means  was  also  another  factor  in 
her  new  life.  After  paying  room  rent  she  had  lesa 
than  two  dollars  left  for  meals  each  week,  and  scrimp 
or  go  hungry  as  she  often  did,  even  the  poorest  food 
cost  more,  and  her  little  hoard  of  forty  dollars  began 
to  grow  less.  Agnes,  the  bright  little  sixteen-year-old 
Cassidy  girl,  who  dodged  and  darted  about  "  The 
Emporium  "  like  a  sprite  in  calico,  soon  became  an 


ONE   GRAIN    OP    SAND  365 

ardent  admirer  and  friend  of  Myrtle,  and  as  there 
was  not  much  in  city  life  her  keen  eyes  had  missed, 
she  helped  her  accordingly. 

"  Shure  there  do  be  an  aitin'-place  in  an  alley  two 
strates  back  o'  the  sthore  wid  iverything  five  cents  " 
she  said  to  her  the  first  day  Myrtle  began  her  service, 
"  an'  if  ye  git  yer  '  come-out '  at  a  quarter-past 
twelve  as  I  do  I'll  wait  at  the  dure  for  ye." 

And  wait  she  did,  fifteen  minutes  of  the  thirty 
allowed  her,  for  not  until  twelve-thirty  did  Myrtle  es- 
cape and  join  her  in  five-cent  food.  Mrs.  Cassidy, 
good  soul  that  she  was,  came  to  Myrtle's  rescue  a 
week  later  with  an  offer  of  night  and  morning  meals 
for  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  a  week  which  she  ac- 
cepted gladly.  "  We  don't  have  much  to  ate,  or 
much  stoile,"  Mrs.  Cassidy  said,  "  just  tay  an'  a 
bit  o'  mate  an'  bread  for  supper  an'  the  same  mornin's 
wid  pertaty  soup  now  an'  thin.  We  don't  be  high 
livers." 

It  was  more  than  fortunate,  however,  that  Myrtle 
had  blundered  into  M  street  and  this  poor  but  self- 
helpful  Irish  family  —  and  all  due  to  their  name 
—  for  they  were  like  most  of  that  race,  warm-hearted, 
honest,  and  ready  to  extend  a  helping  hand  to  this 
friendless  Yankee  girl.  Her  own  praise  of  this 
Norah  Cassidy  and  her  keen  wit,  also  served  to  open 


366  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

their  hearts  and  when  Sunday  came  Mrs.  Cassidy 
insisted  that  Myrtle  should  array  herself  in  her  best 
"  an'  go  wid  the  girls  to  mass." 

Somehow,  too,  the  more  pretentious  Cathedral, 
magnificent  fittings,  and  splendid  singing  with  a 
heart-thrilling  organ  accompaniment,  now  seemed  to 
fit  in  with  Myrtle's  present  frame  of  mind.  She  was 
lonely,  heart-hungry,  life  appeared  a  precarious  mat- 
ter, the  world  and  this  city  a  great  terror-inspiring 
place,  and  she  a  mere  mite  of  humanity  with  no  one 
to  turn  to  for  anything.  She  could  not  understand 
the  black  or  white  robed  priest's  Latin,  but  she  could 
feel  with  the  vast  audience,  and  why  they  bowed  and 
knelt  in  abject  reverence.  The  solemn  music  also 
carried  her  back  to  Folly  Island  as  it  had  at  Con- 
way  Hollow,  and  once  again  she  heard  the  ocean's 
low  booming  monotone  that  rose  and  fell  even  like 
this  great  organ's  tones.  There  she  had  shed  silent 
tears,  now  they  came  again  and  somehow  she  felt, 
even  as  she  did  that  night  when  kneeling  beside  her 
playhouse  at  parting;  as  if  somewhere  there  must 
be  a  God  who  was  watching  over  her. 

And  somehow  also,  when  the  solemn  mass  was 
all  said,  the  organ  lifted  its  voice  into  a  more  joyous 
tone,  and  she  filed  out  with  the  throng,  life  seemed 
a  little  more  hopeful  and  the  world  a  trifle  brighter. 

And  now  came  another  link  forged  in  the  chain 


ONE    GRAIN    OF    SAND  36 Y 

that  was  to  bind  her  to  these  new  friends,  for  the 
elder  Cassidy  girl,  Mary  Ann,  watching  her  even  as 
Norah  had,  read  her  face  aright  and  spoke  thus: 

"  Shure,  Miss  Stone,"  she  said  tenderly  as  they 
moved  away  from  the  church,  "  you  do  be  havin' 
some  heart  trouble,  I'm  thinkin',  an'  axin'  yer  pardon, 
mebbe  ye  ain't  at  pace  with  yer  own  conscience. 
If  ye'd  loike  I'll  ax  Father  Mooney  to  confess  ye  an' 
pay  him  meself." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  returned  Myrtle  her  heart 
leaping  at  this  new  and  kindly  interest,  and  sud- 
denly resolving  to  unbosom  her  sorrows  to  these  two 
girls,  "  I  have  never  wronged  any  one  and  have  no 
sins  to  confess.  I  have  had  troubles,  though,  and  if 
you  care  to  hear  them  you  shall."  And  then  — 
this  November  Sabbath  being  a  balmy  one  —  they 
halted  in  a  little  park  on  their  way  home  and  here 
Myrtle  told,  what  she  had  only  partially  admitted  to 
Norah  and  that,  where  she  came  from,  how  she  left 
Folly  Island  and  why  she  was  so  heart-hungry.  Two 
items  of  this  history  she  reserved,  however,  Mark's 
name  and  her  own  true  one  —  but  his  interest  in  her 
and  aid  to  escape  she  confessed  in  full.  Also  much 
of  her  life  at  Conway  Hollow  and  how  she  had  writ- 
ten him. 

And  she  felt  happier  from  so  doing. 

"  But  why  don't  ye  go  to  him  now  ?  "     Mary  Ann 


368  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

queried  when  the  tale  was  told.  "  Shure  he  do  be 
a  foine  jintleman  to  help  ye  so  widout,  as  ye  say, 
yer  iver  givin'  him  a  kiss  to  pay;  an'  ye  have  no 
cause  for  shame,  ayther,  as  I  kin  see.  If  it  was 
me  I'd  go  to  him  to-morrow  an'  say,  '  Here's  yer 
money,  sor;  I'm  an  honest  girl,  but  wud  ye  plase 
git  me  a  place  to  arn  decent  wages  ez  me  friend,'  so 
I  wud.  An'  he  wud,  too,  or  he  ain't  no  jintleman." 

"  No,"  returned  Myrtle,  "  I  can't  do  that  now, 
not  yet.  I  have  no  reason  to  think  he  cares  for  me, 
he  was  only  sorry,  that  was  all.  Some  day  when 
—  when  I  —  get  over  feeling  as  I  do  now  I'll  go  to 
him  with  the  money.  But  now  I  can't."  And  then 
as  if  to  accentuate  her  quite  plain  admission  she 
was  forced  to  choke  back  a  sob.  But  she  had  made 
two  friends  that  from  now  on  would  fight  for  her 
and  love  her  as  loyal  Irish  hearts  ever  will  through 
thick  and  thin.  They  may  be  selfish  in  some  ways, 
considered  superstitious  by  such  as  the  blueblood 
cult  of  Athens,  most  certainly  could  never  gain  ad- 
mission into  its  sacred  precincts,  and  yet,  once  their 
hearts  are  won  they  are  loyal  to  the  core. 

But  the  great  city  was  as  yet  an  unexplored  tangle 
of  avenues,  streets,  cross  streets,  and  alleys  to  Myrtle, 
and  her  route  from  M  street  to  the  narrow  crowded 
thoroughfare  where  "  The  Emporium "  stood,  was 
through  the  worst  of  this  maze.  She  soon  conquered 


ONE   GRAIN    OF    SAND  369 

it  under  Agnes'  pilotage  and  then  began  evening 
sorties  with  that  bright  lass  for  companion,  to  see 
the  other  big  store  window  shows,  watch  the  crowds 
rushing  into  theatres,  or  the  endless  stream  of  hu- 
manity hurrying  along  sidewalks.  By  this  —  and 
a  new  world  to  Myrtle  it  was  —  she  not  only  learned 
the  city's  streets  but  much  more  from  Agnes.  How 
the  rich  dressed,  and  amused  themselves,  how  the  poor 
lived,  where  Chinatown  was  and  what  infamies  ex- 
isted there,  and  what  streets  no  young  girls  could 
enter  after  dark  without  probable  insult.  And  in 
this  connection  Myrtle  learned,  almost  from  the  out- 
set, what  a  signal-light  of  danger  to  herself  her  own 
face  and  form  were,  for  she  and  Agnes  soon  found 
themselves  followed  by  one  of  the  countless  "  mash- 
ers "  who  infest  every  city  and  worse  than  that,  ac- 
costed by  him.  But  Agnes  was  equal  to  the  occasion 
and  no  insolent  cur  of  that  nature  could  scare  her 
one  iota. 

"Ah,  gwan,  ye  toad,  V  mind  yer  business,"  she 
snarled  at  this  one,  "  or  I'll  spit  in  yer  face,  ye 
insultin'  puppy,"  and  thus  admonished  he  slunk 
away.  It  was  not  an  elegant  speech  but  it  was  Agnes 
all  over,  and  well  merited. 

This  incident  also  furnished  her  a  text,  to  enlarge 
upon  which  she  did  at  once,  and  coming  from  a 
sixteen-year-old  lass  whose  education  had  been  de- 


370  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

rived  from  a  few  years  at  a  parochial  school,  six  as 
bundle-carrier  and  errand  girl  in  a  big  store  and 
roaming  the  streets  nights  and  Sunday  afternoons, 
may  well  be  quoted. 

"  Shure,"  she  said  as  they  strolled  on  "  all  the  min- 
folks  do  be  bad,  I'm  thinkin',  an'  if  they  ain't  after 
girls  they  git  dhrunk  or  go  to  gamblin'  places  to 
spind  their  money.  An'  the  drinkin'  places  are 
so  plinty,  too,  ivery  other  dure  on  the  side  streets 
is  one  an'  the  poor  childers  is  left  to  go  barefoot 
an'  starve.  Thin  thar's  the  bad  houses  so  plinty  wid 
girls  as  bad  as  min  an'  thim  places  where  Chinks 
live  is  the  worst  of  all.  I've  seen  great  ladies  go 
there  to  ate  the  nasty  things  they  cook,  rats,  mice  and 
kittens,  they  say,  an'  smoke  —  hit  the  pipe  they  call 
it,  an'  foine  jintlemen  wid  'em  comin'  in  ortomobiles. 
An'  thin  there's  places  where  rich  men  spind  all 
night  dhrinkin'  an'  gamblin',  club  rooms  they  call 
'em,  an'  I've  seen  'em  comin'  out  in  the  mornin' 
whin  I'm  goin'  to  work  so  dhrunk  they  was  lifted 
into  a  keerige.  An'  sometimes  they  had  wimmen 
wid  'em  too !  Thin  ye  read  about  them  min  forgin' 
an'  stealin'  money  from  banks  ivery  day  or  two  an' 
graftin'  they  call  it,  stalin'  money  from  the  city  wid 
contracts  an'  the  loike  an*  me  countin'  me  beads 
ivery  night  an'  mornin'  an'  gittin'  only  four  dollars 
a  week  wages.  An'  those  that's  worse  off  starvin'! 


ONE    GRAIN    OF    SAND  371 

Shure  it  ain't  right,  as  me  mither  says,  an'  Father 
Mooney  he  says  the  divil  is  after  the  whole  wurld! 
I  think  he  do  be  gettin'  most  of  'em  shure  goin'  to 
purgatory  whin  they  die.  An'  the  foine  ladies  wid 
their  illigent  dresses  an'  where  do  they  git  all  the 
money  to  spind  I'd  like  to  know,  while  me  mither 
has  hard  wurruk  to  pay  the  rint  ?  " 

It  was  a  problem,  or,  seemed  so  to  Myrtle  now, 
and  with  it  a  clearer  realization  of  her  own  help- 
less condition  in  this  great  and  certainly  wicked  city. 
Her  own  wages,  not  even  enough  quite  to  live  on, 
now  seemed  a  rank  injustice  in  the  face  of  the  nine 
hours'  daily  imprisonment  she  endured  to  earn  it 
waiting  on  these  same  "  foine  ladies  "  Agnes  railed 
against.  And  what  should  she  do  if  deprived  of 
it  or  taken  sick?  Life  at  Folly  Island  had  been 
slavery,  it  was  true,  yet  that  had  not  driven  her 
away;  only  because  she  was  hated  and  despised  for 
a  sin  not  her  own.  But  here  she  was  facing  a  worse 
situation  and  scarce  earning  enough  to  live  upon. 
Then  the  —  as  she  began  to  realize  —  quite  foolish 
heart-interest  that  brought  her  here  now  seemed  a 
reproach.  This  man,  Mark  Mason  —  a  hero  in  her 
eyes  at  Folly  Island  —  now  according  to  Agnes  must 
be,  no  doubt  was  no  better  than  those  men  who  spent 
their  nights  in  drinking  and  gambling. 

But  the  loyalty  of  heart  that  was  hers  had  kept 


372  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

asserting  itself  in  spite  of  these  cynical  conclusions, 
she  could  not  and  would  not  quite  believe  him  to  be 
like  the  men  Agnes  sneered  at,  only  he  did  not  care 
enough  for  her  to  answer  her  letter  and  most  likely 
had  now  forgotten  her.  She  had  also  watched  for 
his  face  continuously  every  morning,  noon,  and  night 
for  three  weeks,  Sundays  as  well  going  and  return- 
ing from  church  with  the  Cassidy  girls,  but  all  the 
return  was  added  heart-ache.  And  then  one  Sun- 
day afternoon  —  sure  of  herself  amid  the  tangle  of 
streets  and  led  by  an  insidious  longing  —  she  started 
alone  for  Bank  Street.  It  was  easily  reached  and 
now  practically  deserted;  Number  Forty-two  proved 
to  be  an  imposing  building  devoted  to  offices;  on 
the  marble  signs  flanking  its  entrance  she  read 
"  Mark  M.  Mason,  Cotton  and  Wool  Broker,  Eoom 
210,"  and  a  strange,  eerie  mingling  of  gratitude 
and  heartache  came  to  her  as  she  did  so.  No  per- 
son was  within  sight,  she  knew  that  she  was  all 
alone  in  this  broad,  arched  entrance  and  while  her 
eyes  rested  on  that  name,  back  went  her  thoughts 
and  heart  to  Folly  Island.  Once  more  was  she,  lifting 
the  heavy  boxes  of  salted  fish  and  spreading  them 
while  he  watched  her.  Once  again,  and  later,  wait- 
ing for  him  at  her  playhouse.  And  now  he  was  be- 
side her  there,  looking  at  her  with  his  big,  brown, 
honest  eyes,  and  telling  her  what  a  cold,  selfish  spot 


ONE    GRAIN    OF    SAND  373 

the  great  world  was  and  what  she  had  to  fear.  Then 
she  saw  him  draw  forth  a  roll  of  money  as  if  it  was 
as  valueless  as  a  cigar  and  taking  five  ten-dollar 
bills  from  it,  hand  them  to  her  with  cautionary  ad- 
vice. And  now  she  was  once  more  beside  him  on 
the  bridge  gazing  out  upon  the  ethereal  moonlit  ocean 
while  he  again  explained  how  she  must  leave  the 
island  and  when  and  where  to  meet  him.  And  then 
came  the  last  parting,  how  he  held  her  hand  and 
looked  down  into  her  eyes  so  tenderly,  and  the  won- 
drous new-born  joy  that  thrilled  her  at  this  moment ! 
And  now  she  was  bidding  good-bye  to  her  little 
hut  at  midnight,  kneeling  and  kissing  its  cold  stones 
and  asking  some  Unseen  Power  to  help  her  in  this 
desperate  hour.  Then  her  flight  with  all  its  fears 
and  exhaustion,  her  crawling  into  bushes  to  hide  and 
sleep  like  some  hunted  beast,  her  rescue  by  the  kind 
farmer,  its  outcome,  and  life  at  Conway  Hollow. 
And  then  she  began  to  count  the  months  that  had 
elapsed  since  her  new,  fitful,  half  unhappy,  and 
wholly  scared  life  began.  One,  two,  three,  four, 
months  it  was  and  yet  a  seeming  lifetime !  And  now 
the  neglect  of  this  friend,  how  he  must  have  aided 
her  only  from  momentary  pity,  and  had,  surely  must 
have,  forgotten  her  now,  once  more  assailed  her. 
With  that  also  came  her  own  longing  for  him,  how 
he  must  have  seen  and  known  it  only  to  ignore  her 


374  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

letter  and  let  her  shift  for  herself.  And  then  a 
shame  for  it  all  reddened  her  face  and  neck,  and 
biting  her  lips  to  keep  back  tears  of  humiliation  and 
loneliness  she  hurried  away  from  the  spot. 

But  her  penance  was  not  quite  ended.  He  had 
gone  out  of  her  life,  face  it  alone,  almost,  she  must 
in  this  great  city,  and  yet,  so  peculiar  is  such  a  re- 
nunciation, something  now  impelled  her  to  go  to 
"  The  Elms  "  where  he  lived.  Not  close  to  it,  oh 
no;  only  near  enough  to  see  the  abode  that  sheltered 
him.  It  was  soon  found,  a  half-mile  away  on  a 
broad  avenue,  and  a  pretentious  four-story,  brown- 
stone  apartment  house,  with  many  bay  windows  and 
two  small  elms  at  outer  corner  of  its  little  court- 
yard. No  one  was  visible  about  it,  lace  curtains 
were  drawn  inside  of  most  of  its  windows,  or  else 
shutters,  a  few  flowers  within  one  gave  the  only 
touch  of  color  to  relieve  its  bare,  blank  sameness,  and 
an  elderly  fat  woman  glancing  out  of  a  second-story 
window  was  its  only  apparent  occupant.  It  was  an 
abiding-place  for  rich  boarders,  evidently,  and  not 
a  hotel,  for  this  much  Myrtle  concluded  while  walk- 
ing leisurely  past  it  on  the  opposite  sidewalk  and 
returning  a  few  moments  later.  Then  she  gave  it 
a  longer,  lingering  look  further  on,  with  a  last  faint 
hope  that  the  one  most-wanted  face  in  all  the  world 
might  even  now  be  seen.  But  no!  and  with  a  sigh 


ONE    GBAIN    OS1    SAND  375 

like  one  turning  from  the  grave  of  some  loved  com- 
panion in  life,  so  Myrtle  now  turned! 

And  that  night  in  the  seclusion  of  her  poor  little 
second-story  back  room,  she  shed  bitter,  scalding 
tears  of  utter  loneliness  and  heart-hunger,  and  wished 
herself  back  at  Conway  Hollow,  or  better  still  at  the 
old  farmer's  home  to  be  his  servant  for  life. 

A  worse  blow  to  her  heart  came  a  few  evenings 
later,  however,  while  standing  just  within  a  door- 
way near  a  theatre  entrance  with  Agnes  and  watch- 
ing the  crowd  of  well-groomed  men  and  handsomely 
gowned  ladies  hurrying  in.  They  two  were  in 
shadow,  Myrtle  nearest  the  stream  of  people,  when 
who  should  walk  up  and  wheel  in  but  Mark  and  a 
middle-aged  lady,  modestly  attired  with  big,  soulful 
eyes  and  walking  close  beside  him !  He  passed  not 
ten  feet  from  where  Myrtle  stood,  glanced  down  into 
her  upraised  face  one  instant  and  kept  on,  without 
a  halt,  a  second  look,  or  any  sign  that  he  knew  her ! 

And  Myrtle!  For  one  moment  it  seemed  that 
all  the  joy  and  sorrow  of  her  life  was  condensed 
into  a  single  heart-throb  that  tore  her  very  soul 
asunder ! 

One  second  it  lasted,  the  next  she  wheeled,  stag- 
gered and  clasping  Agnes'  arm  gasped  — "  Let  us 
go  home,  dear,  I  —  I  am  faint." 

"  But  what  took  ye  so  suddint  ? "  queried  that  ir- 


376  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

repressible  as  they  moved  away.  "  Ye  look  like  a 
dead  un  that  white,  so  ye  do. 

"  I  know,"  she  added  more  postively,  "  it's  the 
aitin'  that  did  it,  me  darlin',  that's  what !  Ye  ain't 
used  to  our  vittles." 

But  it  wasn't  the  "  aitin'." 

It  was  the  death-blow  to  poor  Myrtle's  months  of 
hope,  love,  heart-hunger  and  soul-starvation! 


He  passed  not  ten  feet  from  where  Myrtle  stood.  —  Page  375. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A  DEATH-BLOW  TO  LOVE 

MYRTLE  was  wrong  of  course  in  her  sudden  con- 
clusion that  Mark  meant  to  ignore  her,  for  he  never 
saw  her  at  all  —  at  least  to  recognize  her.  She  stood 
in  shadow,  the  bright  glare  of  light  from  the  theatre 
lobby  shone  full  in  his  face,  and  all  he  saw  was  two 
poorly  clad  girls  watching  the  crowd.  And  to  add 
an  almost  tragic  pathos  to  this  unfortunate  episode, 
the  lady  he  was  escorting  was  Mrs.  Upson,  the  mother 
of  Myrtle ! 

But  its  effects  were  the  same  as  if  he  had  ignored 
her  and  if  ever  a  poor,  love-lorn,  helpless  waif  was 
made  to  suffer  it  was  this  one !  And  yet,  despite  her 
heart-anguish,  she  was  still  loyal  to  her  promise  and 
not  a  word  of  disclosure  to  Agnes  fell  from  her  lips 
that  night,  or  later  to  her  friends  at  home.  To  suffer 
in  silence  and  alone  was  her  nature.  Had  she  told 
her  feelings  there  would  have  been  a  scene  at  Mark's 
office  in  short  order,  for  one  or  the  other  of  these 
with  true  Irish  spunk  would  have  gone  to  him  and 
377 


378  MYBTLE   BALDWIN 

said  things  he  would  —  in  this  case  have  given  thou- 
sands of  dollars  to  have  heard ! 

But  Fate  or  the  fortunes  of  love  willed  other- 
wise. 

And  now  another,  insidious,  sinister,  yet  quite  com- 
mon influence,  in  the  shape  of  this  fellow,  Parsons, 
manager  of  "  The  Emporium  "  hosiery  department, 
hegan  to  take  shape  and  assault  Myrtle's  feelings. 
Her  duties  there  had  been  easily  learned,  merely  to 
be  quick  of  eye  and  handy  in  showing  her  wares  to 
as  many  as  possible  in  each  day's  rush,  smile  and 
say  "  Thank  you,"  to  each  purchaser  and  fill  out  her 
sales  slips  correctly.  She  also  had  qualities  that  at 
the  outset  won  friends  among  the  other  salesgirls, 
was  willing  and  anxious  to  help  them,  wore  such 
simple  raiment  —  all  she  had  —  and  not  one  scrap 
of  jewelry  —  that  they  found  no  cause  for  jealousy ; 
and  while  they  perked  and  decorated  themselves  with 
cheap  rings,  neck  chains,  and  gaudy  combs  galore 
after  the  manner  of  most  salesgirls  she  was  simplicity 
personified.  Neither  did  she  need  such  adornments, 
for  her  shapely  hands  —  whiter  than  on  Folly  Island 
—  her  splendid  head  of  jet-black  hair,  expressive 
eyes,  sweet  mouth,  and  perfect  form  would  have  made 
jewelry  ill  chosen  and  quite  superfluous. 

Mr.  Arthur  Parsons  — "  Artie  "  he  always  asked 
the  girls  in  his  department  to  call  him  —  was  a  con- 


A    DEATH-BLOW    TO    LOVE  8Y9 

ceited  jackanapes,  a  coxcomb,  a  soulless,  selfish  rake, 
whose  entire  stock-in-trade  was  fairly  good  looks, 
plenty  of  assurance,  stylish  clothing,  (which  he  was 
slow  to  pay  for)  and  a  moustache  that  he  curled  once 
in  ten  minutes  on  an  average.  He  also  had  a  few 
other  things;  a  plated  watch  and  chain,  horseshoe 
stick  pin,  snake  ring  —  fit  emblem  of  his  nature  — 
and  a  record  for  keeping  no  girls  in  his  department 
unless  they  yielded  to  his  persuasions.  He  was  not 
long  in  recognizing  Myrtle's  attractions,  within  an 
hour  he  began  to  call  her  Iva,  before  night  had  al- 
most offended  her  by  his  many  impertinent  questions, 
the  next  morning  he  brought  her  a  small  bunch  of 
flowers  —  which  she  tucked  under  her  counter  and 
let  stay  there  —  and  a  few  days  later  he  asked  if 
he  might  call  on  her.  She  promptly  declined  the 
honor  with  the  reasonable  excuse  that  the  family  in 
M  street  would  not  allow  her  callers.  His  next 
proposal  was  that  she  go  to  supper  with  him  some 
evening  in  the  near  future,  then  to  the  theatre  after- 
wards. This  she  also  refused  on  the  ground  she 
had  no  dress  suitable  for  such  public  appearances. 
He  kept  repeating  his  invitation,  making  it  for  a 
supper  only  now,  and  with  that  a  succession  of  bare, 
bald,  fulsome  flatteries,  and  assertions  of  love  quite 
nauseating  to  her. 

But  Myrtle  was  growing  wise  quite  rapidly.     Her 


MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

experience  at  Conway  Hollow  had  been  the  primer 
of  self-protection,  Norah's  sage  and  shrewd  asser- 
tions about  "  fellys  "  and  advice  regarding  them  was 
the  second  reader  and  now  Agnes  with  her  pre- 
cocious distrust  of  city  men  clinched  the  lessons,  as 
it  were.  But  that  keen  and  saucy  little  lass  had 
now  resigned  her  "  bundle  girl "  position  at  "  The 
Emporium "  for  better  wages  where  her  sister 
worked,  so  Myrtle  was  left  to  walk  home  each  night 
alone. 

Her  sudden  admirer,  or  pursuer,  was  not  long  in 
discovering  this  fact  and  utilizing  it.  He  had  scant 
chance  in  the  store,  for  the  moment  closing  time  came 
Myrtle,  Agnes,  and  every  one  of  the  "  saleslady  " 
army  scattered  in  short  order,  but  now  Myrtle  de- 
parting alone  gave  him  an  opportunity. 

"  I  suppose,  Iva,  you  will  be  glad  to  have  com- 
pany part  way  home,  now  that  your  running-mate 
has  deserted  you,"  he  said  to  her  with  easy  effrontery 
and  joining  her  outside  the  store  a  few  nights  later. 
But  Myrtle  unaccustomed  to  word-sparring  made 
no  reply. 

"  I  can't  see  why  you  are  so  afraid  of  me,"  he  con- 
tinued in  a  hurt  tone,  "  I've  coaxed  you  several 
times  to  go  to  supper  and  theatre  but  it's  no  go. 
Why  is  it?" 

"  I  told  you,  sir,  I  have  no  clothes  fit  for  going 


A    DEATH-BLOW    TO    LOVE  381 

to  those  places,"  she  answered  pleasantly  as  per- 
force she  must,  "  and  —  and  I'd  rather  not." 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  "  he  responded  petulantly,  "  that's 
only  an  excuse.  Either  I  ain't  good-looking  enough 
or  you  have  another  fellow.  Have  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  fellow,"  she  returned  defiantly,  "  and 
I  don't  want  any." 

"  Well,  you  are  good,  ain't  you,"  he  almost  sneered, 
"  but  I  know  better.  Every  pretty  girl  wants  a  fel- 
low and  most  want  a  string  of  'em,  so  that  don't  go." 

"  But  I  mean  it,  sir,"  she  asserted  earnestly,  "  I 
have  no  nice  dresses  like  the  ladies  I  see  going  into 
theatres  and  I  can't  go."  She  dared  not  tell  him 
she  feared  him  —  he  was  practically  her  employer 
—  her  intuitions  told  her  that  he  meant  no  good 
toward  her,  and  in  a  way  she  was  still  afraid  of 
all  who  wore  male  raiment. 

"  Well,  suppose  we  cut  the  theatre  out,"  he  con- 
tinued, more  coaxingly,  "  and  have  supper  together 
right  now?  I  know  a  nice  place,  cozy  little  rooms 
all  to  ourselves,  and  we  can  eat  and  visit  as  long  as 
we  choose.  !N"o  one  will  see  how  you  are  dressed 
there  and  I  want  to  get  better  acquainted  with  you." 

In  an  instant  Norah's  advice,  "  They'll  want  to 
take  ye  out  aitin'  an'  to  shows  but  don't  ye  go  wid 
'em,  don't  ye  do  it,"  recurred  to  Myrtle  with  startling 
suddenness. 


382  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

"  No  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Parsons,"  she  almost 
pleaded,  "  it's  kind  of  you  to  ask  me  but  —  but 
I'd  rather  not.  I  am  only  a  poor  girl  with  few 
friends  here  and  those  I  have  would  be  shocked  if 
I  made  so  free  with  you." 

A  man  of  Parsons'  character  and  position  will  in- 
evitably, as  the  farmers  say,  "  drive  his  wedge  butt- 
end  foremost,"  i.  e.  try  effrontery  first  and  coaxing 
afterwards  on  a  girl.  And  now  this  selfish  coxcomb 
tried  coaxing. 

"  But,  my  dear  girl,"  he  responded,  "  I  mean  no 
harm  by  asking  you  to  sup  with  me.  You  say  you 
can't  have  me  call  where  you  live.  I  have  fallen  in 
love  with  you,  as  I  tell  you,  and  all  I  want  is  a 
chance  to  visit  with  you.  I  can't  do  it  in  the  store, 
so  there  is  only  this  way  left." 

And  now  Myrtle  felt  herself  cornered  in  a  way. 
To  refuse  this  fellow  who  could  discharge  her  if  he 
chose  was  a  risky  matter  —  many  a  poor  shop-girl  has 
been  ruined  through  the  same  fear  —  to  go  with 
him  was  to  expose  herself  to  probable  insult,  and 
so  she  hestitated  before  answering.  Then  the 
courage  that  had  led  her  to  escape  Folly  Island  as- 
serted itself. 

"  No,"  she  answered  firmly,  "  when  I  came  here 
a  few  weeks  ago  I  found  a  home  with  a  poor  but 
good  woman  who  would  turn  me  away,  I  guess,  if  she 


A  DEATH-BLOW   TO   LOVE  383 

knew  I  went  to  supper  alone  with  you  and  I  dare 
not  do  it  now." 

"  That's  funny,"  he  laughed,  "  to  be  so  afraid  of 
your  landlady.  And  now  in  order  she  may  see  I 
haven't  any  horns  or  hoofs,  suppose  you  let  me  call 
once  for  luck.  You  are  foolish,  Iva,"  he  continued, 
patronizingly,  "  you  haven't  any  beau,  you  say.  I 
doubt  you  ever  was  in  a  theatre  here  and  you  might 
as  well  let  me  take  you  round  some.  There's  an- 
other thing,"  he  added  insinuatingly,  "  you  get  only 
five  a  week  now.  I  can  raise  you  to  six  or  seven  if 
I  choose,  and  if  you  are  disposed  to  be  nice  and 
sociable  with  me  I  will.  Come,  is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  do  it,"  returned  Myrtle,  realizing 
how  much  in  his  power  she  was,  "  Mrs.  Cassidy 
wouldn't  let  me." 

"  Oh  to  Halifax  with  Mrs.  Cassidy,"  he  rejoined 
insolently,  "  I'll  get  theatre  tickets  for  the  whole 
Cassidy  family  some  night  and  then  see  what  she 
says.  You  won't  be  able  to  use  her  for  an  excuse 
after  she  accepts  my  treat."  And  then  as  they  had 
reached  the  border  of  the  poor  section  where  M 
street  was  and  realizing  it  was  unwise  to  coax  this 
timid  girl  any  more  just  now,  he  bade  her  good-night 
and  turned  back.  And  poor  Myrtle  conscious  as 
never  before  how  helpless  a  salesgirl  in  a  store  was, 
hurried  home. 


384  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

But  when  she  confided  her  dilemma  to  Agnes,  as 
she  soon  did,  that  girl's  blue  eyes  sparkled  with  droll 
Irish  wit.  "  Don't  ye  worry,  darlin',"  she  said, 
"  we'll  fix  the  impedant  toad.  Jist  tell  him  ye'll 
go  to  supper  wid  him  and  the  show  but  ye  think  so 
much  o'  me  I'm  to  be  fetched  along.  The  two  of 
us  can  kape  him  behavin'.  If  that  don't  go,  tell 
him  you're  soon  to  be  axin'  to  come  into  me  church 
an'  must  confess  to  the  praste.  Them  spalpeens  has 
no  use  for  girls  who  has  to  confess.  That'll  sthump 
him." 

"  But  suppose  I  lose  my  place  in  the  store  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  worry  'bout  that,  darlin',"  returned 
Agnes  buoyantly,  "  if  ye  do  jist  go  to  the  manager 
ye  first  did  an'  tell  him  the  whole  business.  He'll 
give  ye  another  place.  And  if  ye  lose  yer  job  yer 
face  is  good  for  another  aisy  enough." 

And  then  Myrtle  felt  more  courageous. 

But  her  pursuer  had  no  intention  of  wasting  a 
few  of  his  precious  dollars  in  entertaining  a  second 
girl  he  didn't  want  around  and  although  he  assented 
to  Myrtle's  ultimatum  after  his  next  theatre  proposal 
the  invitation  was  not  forthcoming.  Then  conscious 
that  this  firm  if  timid  girl  must  be  managed  other- 
wise he  tried  another  method  and  a  week  later  she 
found  her  pay  envelope  held  six  instead  of  five 
dollars. 


A    DEATH-BLOW    TO    LOVE  385 

"  You  noticed,  my  dear,"  he  said  to  her  next  morn- 
ing with  assumed  tenderness,  "  that  I've  given  you 
a  raise  without  asking,  in  spite  of  your  being  so 
offish.  I  could  make  it  ten  if  you  were  good  to 
me,"  and  then  he  leered  at  her  in  a  way  that  made 
her  blush. 

"  I  am  thankful  for  the  extra  pay,  I  need  it,"  re- 
turned Myrtle  turning  away  to  her  work. 

"  And  will  you  go  to  supper  with  me  now  ?  "  he 
rejoined  anxiously. 

"  No  thank  you,"  she  answered  curtly,  "  not  un- 
less Agnes  goes  with  us." 

And  that  night  soon  after  she  left  the  store  whom 
should  she  meet  but  Cindy ! 

For  a  moment  these  two,  wide  apart  as  vice  and 
virtue  could  make  them,  stared  at  one  another,  then 
the  tie  of  schoolmate  friendship  asserted  itself  and 
they  came  together  in  quick  embrace. 

"  Why  Mert,"  exclaimed  the  rotund,  well-dressed 
one,  "  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you !  What  brought  you 
here  ?  Come,"  she  added,  locking  arms  with  Myrtle 
after  the  kiss  and  to  escape  the  jostling  crowd,  "  let's 
get  out  of  this  mob,"  and  drawing  Myrtle  into  a 
passage  way  she  surveyed  her  again.  "  You  are 
good  for  sore  eyes,"  she  continued,  "  but  how  came 
you  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  ran  away,"  responded  Myrtle  forgetting 


all  else  in  her  joy  at  meeting  this,  her  only  friend 
at  Folly  Island. 

"  And  came  here  ?  " 

"  No,  not  at  first.  I  got  work  in  a  hotel  and 
came  here  a  month  ago." 

"  And  what  are  you  doing  and  how  much  for 
it  ? "  with  a  survey  of  Myrtle's  plain  merino  dress 
and  brown  cloth  jacket. 

"  I'm  at  '  The  Emporium,'  hosiery  department," 
responded  Myrtle  also  glancing  at  Cindy's  handsome 
fall  costume,  rich  furs  and  stunning  hat,  "  I  got  four- 
fifty  at  first,  then  five,  and  now  six  dollars  a  week." 

"  And  where  do  you  room  ?  " 

"  M  Street  with  a  Mrs.  Cassidy,"  responded  Myr- 
tle, conscious  as  never  before  how  poor  a  locality 
that  was. 

"  M  Street  1 "  exclaimed  the  astonished  Cindy. 
"  How  came  you  to  go  there  ?  That's  in  poverty  hol- 
low where  rag  alley  is !  " 

"  I  know  it,"  returned  Myrtle,  penitently,  "  but 
I  can't  afford  a  room  where  it  costs  more,  and  those 
are  good  honest  people." 

"  Well,  I'm  just  as  glad  to  see  you,"  Cindy  de- 
clared again  embracing  and  kissing  Myrtle,  "  I  wish 
I  could  take  you  to  supper  and  theatre  with  me  this 
eve  but  I  can't.  I've  got  a  date  with  my  best  crush 
— '  Old  Got-Rocks '  I  call  him.  I'll  come  round  to- 


A   DEATH-BLOW    TO    LOVE  887 

morrow  before  closing  time,  take  you  to  supper  and 
to  my  rooms  for  a  nice  visit.  No,  I  won't  either," 
she  continued  hastily,  "  you're  good  and  we  will  go 
to  the  theatre  instead.  We  can  talk  just  as  well. 
I  must  go,"  she  continued  consulting  a  jewelled  chate- 
laine watch  heneath  her  furs,  t(  or  my  mash  will 
growl,"  and  once  more  kissing  Myrtle  she  was  off. 

And  Myrtle,  scarcely  understanding  how  her  old- 
time  schoolmate  and  friend  could  have  been  trans- 
formed into  this  whirlwind  of  speech  and  stunning 
raiment  within  four  months,  turned  her  steps  to- 
ward M  Street,  astonished,  almost  dazed.  She  knew 
that  Cindy  had  had  little  regard  for  what  people  said 
at  Sandy  Bay,  that  she  hated  work  in  the  canning 
shop  —  and  with  reason  —  that  she  left  there  to  take 
a  ready-at-hand  position  to  be  secured  for  her  in  this 
city  by  the  young  yachtsman,  Frank  Goodnow.  But 
who  was  "  Old  Got-Rocks "  and  from  whom  the 
ermine  furs,  rich  costume,  and  beautiful  watch? 
Its  true  solution  came  to  her  bit  by  bit,  however,  and 
when  she  reached  home  shame  kept  her  from  con- 
fiding to  her  friends  whom  she  had  met.  And  the 
problem  of  self-support,  the  influences  and  example 
of  those  about  her  and  life  in  a  great  city  was  grow- 
ing more  complex  day  by  day. 

Neither  had  she  much  except  an  intuitive  self- 
respect  to  guide  her.  Her  life  at  Folly  Island  had 


388  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

been  a  hard-worked  child's  one,  Aunt  Perth,  her 
only  moral  mentor,  with  a  few  good  books  to  furnish 
ideals  and  that  was  all.  For  the  rest,  all  that  was 
likely  to  save  her  from  falling  to  Cindy's  level  was 
Norah's  terse  advice,  and  her  own  inborn  virtue.  To 
offset  that  now  was  the  cold,  cruel,  ignoring  glance 
Mark  had  given  her. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

CINDY  ONCE  MOKE 

A  THEATBE  with  all  its  glamor  of  lights,  well- 
garbed  humanity,  music  and  stage  presentation  of 
make-believe  life  was  unknown  to  Myrtle.  Never 
had  she  seen  even  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  —  about  the 
only  show  that  ever  reached  Sandy  Bay  —  and  now 
Cindy's  invitation  warmed  her  with  a  glow  of  ex- 
pectancy. She  had  one  best  dress  —  the  gift  of  Mrs. 
Davis  —  she  donned  it  next  morning  for  this  new 
and  unexpected  treat,  a  few  additions  were  pur- 
chased that  day  and  when  Cindy  called  for  her 
Myrtle  felt  she  was  at  least  respectably  dressed. 
And  yet  the  contrast  between  her  and  Cindy's 
rich  and  conspicuous  raiment  was  striking.  The  lat- 
ter created  a  buzz  of  comment  among  the  other  sales- 
girls near  Myrtle.  Parsons  eyed  her  with  curious 
interest  for  he  knew  her  social  status  and  made  a 
mental  note  of  how  he  would  use  it  to  humble  the 
proud  Myrtle  later  on. 

"  We  will  have  supper  first,"  Cindy  asserted  as 
soon  as  the  two  left  the  store  and  well  versed  as  she 

389 


390  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

was  in  the  city's  possibilities  she  now  led  her  to  a 
cafe  composed  of  private  dining  rooms  and  into  one 
of  them. 

"  Have  a  drink,  Mert  ? "  she  next  queried  after 
they  had  laid  aside  their  hats  and  were  seated  at  the 
one  small  table. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  responded  Myrtle  firmly,  "  I 
never  tasted  spirits  in  my  life." 

"  Well,  you  better,  it'll  chirk  you  up,"  Cindy  de- 
clared smiling,  "you  look  scared.  Two  cocktails, 
please,"  she  added  addressing  the  colored  waiter  who 
had  followed  them  in.  He  vanished  and  then  she 
picked  up  the  bill  of  fare. 

"  Now,  Mert,"  she  said  cheerfully  as  one  ac- 
customed to  good  living,  "  what  will  you  eat  ?  Let's 
have  a  couple  of  broiled  lobsters  to  remind  us  of 
Folly  Island  and  how  lucky  we  are  to  be  away  from 
it.  Or  would  you  prefer  a  bird  ? " 

"  You  order  the  supper,  please,"  Myrtle  returned 
timidly,  "  I  am  satisfied  with  anything." 

"Well  I  ain't,"  Cindy  asserted  briskly,  "I  live 
to  eat  and  have  a  good  time.  Two  Broiled  lives,"  she 
added  to  the  waiter  who  had  returned  with  the  drinks, 
"  and  a  pair  of  quail  on  the  side  with  all  the  fixin's. 
Also  grape  fruit  with  sherry  first  and  a  pot  of 
coffee. 

"  There,  that  will  beat  M  Street  grub,  I  guess," 


CINDY    ONCE    MOEE  391 

she  continued  reaching  for  her  cocktail,  "  and  now, 
Mert,  let's  drink  to  our  escape." 

Myrtle  perforce  barely  touched  her  lips  to  the  other 
red  mixture  while  Cindy  swallowed  hers  with  a 
smack.  "  Now,"  she  said,  "  tell  me  your  story  and 
how  did  you  dare  come  here  ? " 

But  somehow  Cindy's  manner,  her  free  and  easy 
ordering  of  drinks,  her  previous  reference  to  "  Old 
Got-Rocks  "  and  Myrtle's  surmises  in  this  connec- 
tion now  told  her  she  had  best  not  be  too  confiding. 

"  Well,"  she  answered  cautiously,  "  I  ran  away 
from  Folly  Island,  as  I  told  you,  to  find  some  bet- 
ter work  and  earn  a  living.  I  did  table-work  in  a 
nice  hotel  —  I  wish  I  was  back  there  now, —  then 
I  came  here  because  another  table-girl  I'd  made 
friends  with,  was  leaving  and  she  said  I  could  do 
better  in  a  store." 

"  And  have  you  ?  "  asked  Cindy,  glancing  Myrtle 
over. 

"  No,  I  haven't  earned  my  board  and  room  rent 
so  far,"  she  returned  sighing,  "  and  if  I  hadn't 
saved  a  little  money  at  the  hotel  I'd  be  in  debt  now." 

"  I  believe  that  part  easy  enough,"  Cindy  an- 
swered watching  Myrtle's  face,  "  but  why  don't  you 
tell  the  rest?  How  about  Frank's  friend,  Mason  I 
think  his  name  was,  who  was  after  you  on  the  island  ? 
Where  does  he  come  in  ? " 


392  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

And  then  poor  Myrtle  grew  crimson. 

"I  —  I  —  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  stam- 
mered —  then  more  defiantly  — "  I've  nothing  else 
to  tell,  Cindy." 

"  Well,  don't,  my  dear  old  friend,"  returned  Cindy 
tenderly.  "  But  I  am  awful  sorry  for  you,  honest 
I  am !  I  can  read  your  story  without  another  word, 
or  part  of  it.  You  met  and  fell  in  love  with  this 
fellow  Mason,  he  gave  you  money  to  run  away  with 

—  else  you'd  never  dared  —  he  was  to  meet  you  at 
this  hotel  and  didn't,  and  then  you  came  here  to 
find  him.     Now  you  haven't  or  else  he's  ignored  you 
and  that's  why  I'm  sorry  for  you.     This  city's  no 
place  for  a  girl  like  you  who  means  to  be  good," 
she  continued  cynically,  "  you  haven't  any  trade  or 
education  fit  to  earn  anything  but  shop  girl's  wages, 
and  —  excuse  me  I  don't  want  to  discourage  you  — 
but  if  you  keep  on  being  good  you  will  go  broke  and 
barefoot  both." 

"  I  guess  so,"  answered  Myrtle  sighing,  "  but  I 
feel  just  as  I  did  when  we  parted  at  Sandy  Bay  last 
summer.  I  won't  take  money  from  men  the  way  you 

—  you  think  I  ought  to." 

"  No,  my  dear  Mert,  I  know  you  won't,"  answered 
Cindy  also  sighing,  "  and  may  be  you  are  right. 
It's  not  money  I'm  proud  of, —  I  know  you  know  how 
I  live  —  and  you'd  be  utterly  wretched.  But  it's 


CINDY    ONCE    MORE  393 

an  awful  hard  world  for  a  good  girl  to  earn  an 
honest  living  in  and  ten  times  worse  here."  Then 
this  contradictory  girl,  neither  all  good  or  all  bad, 
closed  her  eyes  in  meditation. 

"  Mert,"  she  continued  suddenly  looking  up  again 
after  a  lengthy  pause  and  in  tender  tones :  "  You 
were  my  only  friend  at  Sandy  Bay,  the  only  one 
who  stuck  by  me  in  spite  of  all  talk  —  most  of  it 
deserved,  may  be  —  and  I  don't  forget  it.  I  am 
your  friend,  too  —  shall  be  as  long  as  I  live. 
Neither  do  I  want  to  pry  into  your  heart  affairs,  but 
—  you  mustn't  mind  what  I  say  now  —  I  don't  be- 
lieve this  fellow  will  ever  marry  you,  you  ain't  edu- 
cated right  for  him,  and  you've  either  got  to  go  my 
way,  to  hell,  I  s'pose,  or  quit  the  city." 

"I  —  I  know  it,  I  guess  so,"  replied  Myrtle  in- 
coherently, and  biting  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  tears, 
"  but  —  but  I've  no  place  and  no  one  to  go  to.  I'm 
awfully  alone,  Cindy." 

"  There,  there  don't  give  way,"  cautioned  Cindy 
jumping  up  and  rushing  to  embrace  and  kiss  her 
friend.  "  I  knew  I'd  hurt  you  but  I  meant  kind 
and  I  ain't  going  back  on  you  —  not  yet.  As  long 
as  I've  got  a  dollar,  half  of  it  is  yours,  so  cheer 
up  and  smile  once  more." 

"  And  now,"  she  added  after  a  long  sympathetic 
scrutiny  of  Myrtle,  "  let  me  take  you  in  hand,  do 


394  MYRTLE   BALDWIH 

you  a  good  turn  and  land  you  on  Plush  Avenue. 
This  fellow,  Mason,  is  in  town  for  Frank  saw  him 
not  long  ago.  He  is  also  a  bachelor  and  well  fixed, 
he  must  like  you  some  or  he  wouldn't  have  done 
what  I'm  sure  he  did,  but  you  needn't  expect  he  will 
marry  you  for  he  won't.  What  he  will  do  I  am 
positive  is,  take  care  of  you  if  you  are  willing  and 
you  can  guess  the  rest.  Now  say  the  word  and  I'll 
go  to  him  to-morrow  and  in  a  week  (if  he  is  as 
wise  as  I  think)  you  will  have  a  furnished  flat  to 
live  in  like  mine,  all  the  new  dresses  you  need  and 
more,  and  money  in  your  pocket.  Don't  say  no  till 
you  think  it  over,"  she  added  hurriedly,  "  it's  the 
way  of  life  here  for  homeless  girls  like  you  and  me, 
and  for  you  to  go  on  as  you  are,  practically  starving 
in  rag  alley,  is  a  fool  thing.  Come,  what  do  you 
say?" 

For  a  moment  Myrtle  started  at  the  audacious, 
smiling  face,  just  across  the  table,  while  the  full 
meaning  of  this  shameless  yet  alluring  proposition 
came  to  her.  Then  the  degradation  and  ignominy 
of  it  all  crimsoned  her  face  and  neck. 

"  Cindy,"  she  said  with  a  flash  of  defiance,  "  I 
was  beaten  and  hated  on  Folly  Island.  I  am  what 
you  once  said,  a  nameless  outcast  not  fit  for  a  good 
man's  wife,  but  I'll  starve  or  die  before  I'll  let  you 


CINDY    ONCE    MOKE  395 

go  to  that  man  and  offer  to  sell  me;  never,  never, 
never !  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  returned  Cindy  in  hopeless 
tone  and  for  the  first  time  feeling  a  tinge  of  shame. 
"  And  the  more  fool  you,  Mert.  You  may  change 
your  mind,  though,  after  you  have  starved  a  spell 
longer.  And  what  will  you  gain  by  it  ?  "  she  added, 
unwilling  to  give  up  her  plan.  "  Nobody  knows 
you  here  or  cares  a  rap  what  becomes  of  you.  You 
will  never  get  credit  for  being  good,  even  if  you  are. 
There  isn't  one  girl  in  five  in  your  store  any  better 
than  I  am,  only  they  are  more  sly  about  it,  and  as 
for  the  men  in  this  city  —  well  they  are  all  alike 
and  as  fast  as  they  can  afford  to  be.  Some  even 
more  so,  and  on  other  people's  money,  Old  Got- 
Rocks  says,  and  he  knows.  Then  the  way-up  women, 
the  fine  ladies,  ain't  much  better,  as  you  can  find 
out  if  you  read  the  divorce  court  reports.  No 
Mert,"  she  asserted,  after  a  pause  to  let  these  cyni- 
cal arguments  take  effect,  "  goodness  here  is  out  of 
date  and  old-fashioned  except  among  a  few  ancient 
tabbies  or  male  fossils  who  have  to  be  good.  As  for 
the  rest,  it's  have  all  the  fun  you  can,  for,  as  Frank 
says,  when  you  are  dead  you  are  a  long  time  dead." 

The  waiter's  knock  and  entry,  with  their  supper 
now  ended  this  peculiar  discussion  for  the  time  and 


396  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

not  until  the  feast  was  disposed  of  was  it  referred 
to  again  by  Cindy.  "  Now,  Mert,"  she  continued, 
nonchalantly  lighting  a  cigarette,  "  you  have  got  some 
foolish  notions  in  your  mind  and  where  they  come 
from  is  one  too  many  for  me.  Certainly  not  from 
Folly  Island." 

"  Yes  they  did,"  interrupted  Myrtle,  "  from  some 
books  I  read  there  and  Mr. —  I  mean  some  other 
way." 

"  Oh  ho,  it's  a  man's  preaching,  is  it !  "  laughed 
Cindy.  "  Why  didn't  you  say  Mr.  Mason,  and  done 
with  it?  Men  always  talk  that  way  to  a  girl  they 
want  for  themselves  —  I  know  'em,  the  hypocrites ! 
And  yet  they'll  buy  any  girl  they  can  that  tries  to 
be  good  like  you.  I'll  bet  a  bottle  of  wine  your 
friend  Mason  is  no  better  and  at  this  very  moment 
is  with  some  fairy  who  is  working  him." 

And  then  the  vision  of  Mark  escorting  a  well- 
gowned  lady  to  the  theatre  so  recently  and  his  cold 
stare  at  her  returned  to  Myrtle  on  the  instant  like  a 
knife  thrust  and  to  clinch  these  assertions. 

"  Why,  what's  struck  you?  "  Cindy  ejaculated  the 
next  moment,  eyeing  her  sharply,  "  You  look  pale  as 
a  ghost. 

"  I  know,  dear,"  she  added  more  tenderly,  "  it's 
him,  it's  always  a  '  him  '  with  a  girl  who  has  a  heart 


CINDY    ONCE    MORE  397 

-  more's  the  pity.  I'm  sorry  I  said  what  I  did, 
though,"  she  continued  after  a  pause,  "  forget  it. 
And  if  only  you'd  let  me  go  to  him  now  you'd  be 
the  happiest  girl  in  the  city.  Please  say  the  word, 
Mert  ?  "  Then  to  add  the  one  most  persuasive  plea 
of  all  she  arose,  stepped  around  to  Myrtle,  stooped 
and  kissed  her. 

There  are  moments  in  the  lives  of  all  when  — 
unknown  to  them  they  stand  on  the  brink  of  an  abyss 
or  halt  to  choose  between  an  upward  or  downward 
path.  Such  a  moment  now  came  to  poor  heart- 
hungry,  almost  desperate  Myrtle.  On  one  hand  was 
the  man  she  loved  and  all  it  meant  to  her.  On  the 
other,  only  this  continued  pinching,  hopeless  life  of 
denial  and  M  Street.  To  let  Cindy  go  to  him  was 
shame,  dishonor,  degradation,  with  perhaps  a  simu- 
lated love  and  protection  to  gild  it.  Still  to  refuse 
meant  soul  and  body  starvation.  Only  a  moment 
she  hesitated  while  her  heart  leaped  and  pulses 
thrilled  with  insidious  allurement,  then  the  heroism 
of  her  soul  rose  supreme  and  swallowing  a  sob  she 
shook  her  head. 

"  No,  no  Cindy,  I  can't,"  she  said,  "  I  can't." 

And  somehow  just  then  Cindy  felt  herself  a 
shameless  and  ignoble  creature. 

"  So  be  it,"  she  returned  slowly,  "  I  shall  never 


398  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

ask  you  again.  But  you  are  braver  than  I  could  be. 
Now  let's  go  to  the  show,"  she  added  hastily,  glad 
to  so  end  the  matter. 

But  the  theatre  they  soon  entered  with  its  sea  of 
faces,  its  dazzling  array  of  handsomely  gowned 
ladies,  their  sparkling  diamonds,  men  in  evening  cos- 
tume, and  orchestra's  languorous  waltz  overture,  now 
opened  a  new  world  to  Myrtle.  And  when  the  cur- 
tain rose  and  the  play  began,  she  quite  forgot  her 
many  troubles  in  following  that  make-believe  epi- 
sode of  human  life.  She  laughed  at  the  bits  of 
comedy,  felt  her  heart  respond  to  the  heroine's  sor- 
rows, worried  lest  the  villain  should  fail  to  get  his 
deserts,  and  was  dead  to  the  world  and  all  in  it  until 
the  curtain  fell  on  everybody  happy. 

Once  outside  and  dazed  still  she  felt  herself  drawn 
aside  from  the  outgoing  rush  and  Cindy  spoke. 

"  I'm  never  going  to  take  you  to  my  rooms,  Mert," 
she  said  hurriedly  — "  not  now.  And  I  want  you 
to  forget  what  I  said  and  what  I  am  and  think  of 
me  only  as  your  old  friend  at  Sandy  Bay.  I  shall 
come  into  the  store  now  and  then;  I  shan't  forget 
you,  never  fear,  and  some  evening  we  will  repeat 
this  one  again."  Then  crowding  a  bit  of  paper  into 
Myrtle's  hand  she  beckoned  a  hackman,  almost 
pushed  Myrtle  into  the  carriage,  handed  the  driver 
a  dollar,  bade  him  take  his  passenger  to  M  Street 


CINDY   ONCE    MORE  399 

and  with  a  "  Good  night,  dear,"  to  Myrtle  joined  the 
hurrying  away  stream  of  people. 

When  Myrtle  stopped  to  examine  the  bit  of  paper 
by  the  next  street  light  she  found  it  was  a  ten-dollar 
bill. 

And  that  night  she  tossed  and  turned  on  her  pil- 
low for  hours,  living  over  the  evening's  charm  again 
and  again,  then  returning  to  the  bare  facts  of  her 
own  situation  and  future  as  outlined  by  Cindy.  And 
the  more  she  dwelt  upon  them  the  more  hopeless  they 
seemed. 

Then  Mark's  face  intruded  itself;  first  with  the 
tender  brown  eyes,  and  kind  words  spoken  beside 
her  dear  old  playhouse;  all  his  manly  interest  and 
honest  advice,  and  following  these  like  an  avenging 
spectre,  that  cold  blank  stare  so  recently  given  her 
by  him.  And  the  oftener  that  returned  the  more 
wretched  she  grew !  Also  the  more  positive  that  she 
must  seek  a  livelihood  somewhere  away  from  this 
city,  this  great  hive  of  evil-minded  men  and  design- 
ing women  —  as  described  by  Agnes  —  or  else  — 
and  then  she  shuddered,  for  now  another  of  the  city's 
sights  recurred  to  her.  She  had,  going  home  one 
evening  with  Agnes  —  and  a  cold,  rainy  one  —  seen 
a  woman,  young  and  yet  old,  with  a  pinched,  hag- 
gard, painted  face,  scanty  yellow  hair,  and  poor  rai- 
ment; step  out  of  an  alley  just  ahead  of  them  and 


400  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

seize  the  arm  of  a  passing  man.  Only  two  words  of 
what  was  exchanged  between  these  and  that  "  I'm 
starving  "  reached  Myrtle  as  they  neared  them,  and 
then  Agnes  —  wise  in  city's  ways  —  explained  who 
the  bedraggled,  painted  creature  was  and  her  calling. 

And  now  that  woman's  face,  hideous,  hopeless, 
leering;  her  dirty  ragged  clothing  and  words  of  des- 
peration, returned  to  Myrtle.  Also  the  almost  as 
hopeless  admission  made  by  Cindy. 

And  was  this  what  her  friend  had  meant?  Was 
this  the  outcome  and  end  of  such  a  life  as  Cindy  was 
leading?  Surely  it  must  be,  and  her  future  here 
seemed  all  the  more  desperate. 

And  then  her  experiences  at  Conway  Hollow  with 
the  two  drummers  who  tried  their  blandishments  on 
her,  the  score  or  more  of  men  who  had  accosted  her 
on  the  street  here,  and  her  employer,  Parsons,  with 
his  persistent  pursuit,  now  returned  to  her.  "  Oh, 
why  must  men  be  so  base  and  designing  ? "  she 
thought.  Why  so  different  from  the  noble,  generous 
and  tender  ones  in  books  she  had  read  ?  They  never 
insulted  helpless  table-girls  or  followed  poorly  paid 
shop-girls  with  evil  intent  They  were  always 
manly,  thoughtful,  chivalrous,  and  pure-minded. 
And  once  more  Cindy's  prosperity,  her  thriving  on 
the  money  of  "  Old  Got-Rocks  "  and  free  use  of  it 
—  also  of  others  no  doubt  —  again  recurred  to  poor 


CINDY    ONCE    MOKE  401' 

Myrtle.  She  could  not,  would  not  so  exist !  She 
would  beg  or  starve  first,  and  then  Cindy's  assertions 
about  "  going  broke  and  barefoot  both  "  followed  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  brought  Myrtle's  present  sit- 
uation home  to  her  in  forceful  manner. 

She  had  come  to  this  city  with  about  forty  dollars 
of  her  own  money.  A  hat,  winter  jacket,  and  a  few 
other  absolutely  needed  articles  had  reduced  that  to 
less  than  twenty,  her  present  wages  barely  sufficed 
for  board,  washing,  and  room  rent,  and  what  if  she 
should  lose  her  position  or  be  taken  sick?  And 
where  else  could  she  go  or  what  else  could  she  do  ? 
Cindy  had  told  her  bitter  truths,  she  was  not  fit 
for  a  man  like  Mark,  had  no  education  to  enable  her 
to  earn  aught  but  servant  or  shop-girl  wages,  and  all 
hope  that  he  would  ever  find  her  or  ever  try  to  was 
gone. 

Truly  the  future  of  her  life  was  dark,  desperate 
and  without  a  rift  of  light ! 


CHAPTEE  XXXIV 

A    WOULD-BE    LECOQ 

"  THE  EMPORIUM  "  was  managed  and  run  on  cold, 
strictly  selfish  principles.  To  buy  everything  at  the 
lowest  possible  cash  price  was  the  first ;  to  buy  much 
merchandise  of  second-grade  or  inferior  quality  and 
advertise  it  as  "  clearance  sales,"  "  mill-end  sales," 
or  "three-hour  sales"  was  the  next; — -and  they 
always  succeeded  in  fooling  the  public.  Its  chief 
manager  was  instructed  to  hire  girls  in  place  of  men, 
because  cheaper,  all  assistant  managers  —  Parsons 
was  one  —  were  directed  to  cut  their  wages  when- 
ever an  excuse  could  be  found,  to  exact  fines  for 
trifling  faults,  and  in  all  ways  treat  them  as  so  many 
slaves  whose  lives  and  morals  must  subserve  small 
pay  and  cut  prices. 

As  this  was  the  shibboleth,  the  law  and  gospel  of 
the  firm,  it  is  not  surprising  that  "  Artie  "  had  full 
scope  for  his  ambitions. 

He  was  also  what  some  one  aptly  termed  "  a  tin 
horn  sport,"  i.  e.  a  foolish  braggart.  He  was  cheek- 
by-jowl  with  gamblers,  bucket-shop  men,  pool-room 

402 


A    WOULD-BE    LECOQ  40 3 

keepers,  and  the  like,  whenever  he  had  time ;  was  al- 
ways telling  how  he  was  long  or  short  of  any  stock 
that  had  had  a  rise  or  fall  —  yet  never  risked  a  dol- 
lar for  he  had  none  to  risk  —  always  asserted  that 
he  had  won  various  sums  on  this  horse  or  that,  and 
yet  his  landlady  had  hard  work  to  obtain  her  pay 
and  his  tailor  was  forever  dunning  him.  Beyond 
these  foolish  assertions  that  deceived  none  who  knew 
him,  he  imagined  himself  to  be  a  wonderfully  keen 
observer  of  men  and  women  and  their  ways.  A 
modern  Lecoq  in  fact,  who  could  tell  a  man's  busi- 
ness by  his  walk  or  a  woman's  status  by  the  shade 
of  her  hair  or  glance  of  her  eyes.  He  had  read  a 
score  of  detective  stories,  his  favorites  always  —  and 
desired  to  emulate  their  heroes.  To  this  end  he 
spied  upon  everybody  whom  he  could  day  or  night, 
watched  theatres  to  see  if  perchance  some  man  he 
knew  was  escorting  a  lady  not  his  wife,  and  if  so, 
who  she  was.  He  looked  into  cafes,  gambling 
houses,  sporting  resorts  for  the  same  sinister  pur- 
pose, and  watched  the  bucket-shops  as  well.  He 
even  visited  worse  resorts  to  pick  up  vile  facts  and 
information  he  might  be  able  to  use  sometime.  He 
had  as  stated  tried  his  preliminary  arts  on  Myrtle, 
that  is,  to  induce  her  to  take  the  first  steps  in  a  down- 
ward career,  but  without  avail.  He  had  also,  and 
for  the  same  ultimate  object,  watched  for  and  way- 


404  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

laid  her  on  her  lone  walk  home  several  eveninga  to 
coax  and  tease  her  to  sup  with  him,  but  without 
success.  He  did  not  despair,  however.  A  waiting 
and  watching  game  had  won  out  before  with  him ;  it 
would  again,  he  was  sure,  so  he  kept  at  it  and  each 
evening  either  followed  her  part  way  in  a  casual 
manner  or  posted  himself  at  some  vantage  point  to 
see  if  another  man  was  walking  home  with  her. 
And  so  doing  one  evening  he  saw  her  meeting  with 
Cindy  —  whose  social  position  he  knew  full  well  — 
watched  them  enter  a  well-known  cafe,  hung  around 
till  they  came  out,  followed  and  observed  them  go 
into  a  theatre  and  was  even  witness  to  their  peculiar 
parting.  And  then  his  base  soul  was  filled  with  un- 
holy glee  for  now  he  saw  a  coveted  chance.  To  add 
force  and  to  complicate  matters,  the  very  next  day 
Cindy  presented  herself  at  the  hosiery  counter  while 
Myrtle  was  absent  a  few  moments. 

"Where  is  Miss  Baldwin  —  Myrtle?"  she  de- 
manded of  another  salesgirl. 

"  There  is  no  Miss  Baldwin  here,  lady,"  the  girl 
answered  meekly. 

"  Why,  yes  there  is,"  Cindy  asserted  imperiously, 
"  for  I've  seen  her  here,  she  is  my  friend."  • 

"  Who  is  it  you  wish  to  see,  lady  ?  "  interrupted 
Parsons  in  a  suave  manner  as  he  stepped  up  to 
Cindy. 


A    WOULD-BE    LECOQ  405 

"  Why,  my  friend  Miss  Baldwin,"  she  answered 
brusquely,  "  there  she  is  now,"  she  added  as  Myrtle 
drew  near  and  advanced  to  meet  her.  She  purchased 
a  half-dozen  pair  of  the  finest  silk  hose,  chatted  a 
few  moments  with  Myrtle  and  then  left  the  store. 

And  that  evening  Parsons,  now  armed  and 
equipped  as  he  had  never  hoped  to  be,  stepped  boldly 
up  beside  Myrtle  soon  after  she  left  the  store  and 
thus  accosted  her: 

"  I'm  sure,  Miss  Baldwin,"  he  said  with  easy  as- 
surance, "you  will  now  be  glad  of  my  company 
home,  or  better  still,  let's  have  supper  and  go  to 
the  show.  It  seems  to  me  you'd  best  do  it  now. 
What  say  you  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Myrtle,  conscious  her  real  name 
had  been  betrayed  by  Cindy,  was  speechless  from 
sudden  fear  and  shame,  then  the  utter  meanness, 
the  vileness  of  this  fellow's  speech  and  action  flashed 
over  her  and  gave  her  courage. 

"  I  don't  care  to  go  to  supper  or  theatre  with  you, 
sir,"  she  answered  sharply,  "  and  I  never  shall,  so 
you  needn't  ask  me  again." 

"  Well,  I  notice  you  ain't  so  very  particular  in 
picking  your  company,"  he  sneered,  "  so  long  as  its 
one  of  your  own  sex,  and  I  guess  my  name  is  full  as 
good  as  the  lady  friend  you  were  with  the  other  even- 
ing. How  long  have  you  been  chums  with  her  ? " 


406  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

"  That  is  none  of  your  business,  sir,"  returned 
Myrtle  hotly,  "  she  is  an  old  schoolmate  of  mine  I 
met  the  evening  you  spied  upon  me." 

"  There,  now  don't  get  mad,  my  dear,  and  be 
sassy,"  he  responded,  soothingly,  "  and  don't  be  silly 
any  longer.  I'm  struck  on  you,  as  I've  told  you ;  I 
can  be  your  friend  and  raise  your  wages  when  I 
choose,  and  will  if  you  are  nice  to  me,  so  let's  make 
up  and  have  a  good  time.  And,  by  the  way,  if  I 
raise  you  to  say  eight  a  week  for  your  good  looks, 
you  needn't  room  in  that  vile  M  Street  any  longer. 
Come  let's  be  friends." 

It  was  an  open,  bare,  bald,  shameless  offer  for  Myr- 
tle to  sell  herself  for  a  paltry  two  dollars  a  week; 
she  knew  it  on  the  instant,  and  it  made  her  blood 
boil. 

"  No  sir,  I  don't  want  any  better  pay  or  any  such 
offer,  I  wouldn't  go  out  with  you  if  I  starved  for 
it,"  she  returned  angry  all  over,  "  and  you  needn't 
insult  me  again,  either !  " 

But  Parsons  like  most  of  his  ilk  was  impervious 
to  any  woman's  just  anger.  He  was  like  a  serpent 
to  crawl  and  hiss  and  strike  unawares,  or  a  cowardly, 
sneaking  man  willing  to  be  spat  upon  so  long  as  he 
gained  his  object. 

"  Well,  well,  keep  cool  my  dear  Iva,  or  Myrtle, 
which  is  it  ?  "  he  answered  with  covert  sneer.  "  I 


A   WOTJLD-BE    LECOQ  407 

haven't  insulted  you,  I've  only  tried  to  be  friendly 
and  now  tell  me,  is  Iva  the  name  you  work  under 
and  Myrtle  your  sporting  one  or  how  is  it  ?  Maybe 
I'd  best  tell  the  bosses  you  trot  double  and  chum 
with  a  — " 

But  Myrtle  waited  not  to  hear  the  last  of  his 
words  for  on  the  instant  she  darted  across  the  street, 
ran  down  another  and  vanished.  And  that  night, 
and  wisely  too,  she  held  council  with  her  three 
friends. 

"  He's  a  bad  man,  a  dhirty  dog,  so  he  is,"  de- 
clared Mrs.  Cassidy,  "  an'  be  the  howly  mither  I'd 
loike  to  souse  him  wid  soap-suds  so  I  wud !  " 

"  I'd  go  to  the  bosses,"  added  the  more  world-wise 
Agnes,  "  an'  tell  thim  he  offered  to  raise  yer  wages 
if  ye'd  sin  wid  him.  They're  so  close-fisted,  be- 
gorry  they'd  give  him  the  bounce,  an'  mebbe  a  better 
job  for  you.  I'd  thry  it  onyhow !  " 

"  An'  so  wud  I,"  put  in  Mary  Ann,  who  was 
freckled  and  red-haired,  "  shure  you're  good-lookin' 
enough  to  git  a  job  anywhere  an'  if  ye  don't  I'll  git 
ye  one  in  the  box  shop.  It's  dhirty  work  but  they 
pay  sivin  a  week." 

And  thus  encouraged  Myrtle  went  direct  to  the 
little  old,  alert  man,  the  general  manager  next  morn- 
ing- 

"  I  am  Iva  Stone,  and  have  been  in  your  hosiery 


408  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

department,"  she  said  at  once  to  him,  "  and  please 
I'd  like  another  place,  sir." 

Once  more  this  keen  eyed  Power  wheeled  around 
from  his  desk  and  flashed  a  sharp  glance  at  Myrtle. 

"  What  for  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  can't  get  along  with  Mr.  Parsons,"  she  an- 
swered, as  directly,  "  he  has  insulted  me." 

"  How  so,  what  did  he  do  ?  " 

"  He  tags  me  going  home  every  night  and  wants 
me  to  go  to  supper  with  him  and  —  and  that  isn't 
all,"  admitted  Myrtle,  now  coloring,  "  he  offered  to 
raise  my  pay  if  I  would." 

"  Nonsense,  he  don't  raise  anybody's  pay,"  as- 
serted this  little  man  whose  name  was  Hill.  "  I  do 
that  solely  on  his  report.  He  said  you  were  doing 
well,  were  about  to  leave  so  I  gave  you  an  extra  dol- 
lar last  week  to  keep  you." 

And  then  more  light  upon  "  The  Emporium " 
management  dawned  on  Myrtle. 

"  But  couldn't  he  discharge  me  if  he  wished  ?  " 
she  queried  anxiously,  "  if  he  didn't  like  me  ? " 

"  Not  unless  there  was  a  business  reason,"  assured 
Mr.  Hill,  "  his  own  likes  and  dislikes  have  no  weight 
with  me.  As  for  his  making  love  to  you  it's  his 
affair  and  yours  only.  As  you  are  a  good-looker 
you  must  expect  it.  Most  girls  do,"  and  then  he 
turned  to  his  desk  to  end  the  interview. 


A    WOULD-BE    LECOQ  409 

Myrtle  also  returned  to  her  duties  forthwith,  some- 
what assured,  and  from  that  time  onward  never 
looked  at  Parsons  or  addressed  a  word  to  him  unless 
forced  to  do  so.  And  even  those  were  cold  and 
cutting.  Neither  did  the  general  manager  call  Par- 
sons to  account  (which  was  fortunate  for  Myrtle) 
for  hers  was  an  old  story  at  "  The  Emporium,"  and 
of  scant  interest  to  the  firm.  They  were  not  run- 
ning a  school  for  moral  instruction  —  just  a  plain 
money-making  hive  where  human  souls  and  bodies, 
vice  or  virtue  were  of  no  more  account  than  the  coal 
shovelled  under  their  hasement  boilers.  Neither 
did  poor,  unsophisticated  Myrtle  realize  or  even 
guess  to  what  extent  this  fellow  Parsons  would  go 
in  his  pursuit  of  her  or  how  low  he  would  stoop. 

She  found  out  in  due  time,  however. 

A  few  days  later,  or  the  week  before  Christmas, 
in  fact,  Cindy  rushed  into  the  store  again  just  before 
closing  time. 

"  I've  only  a  moment,  Mert,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
want  you  to  meet  me  in  just  an  hour  at  the  Cafe 
for  supper  and  theatre.  That'll  give  you  time  to  go 
home  and  dress  up,  or  come  as  you  are.  I've  a  lot 
to  tell  you,"  and  away  she  sped  without  waiting  for 
an  answer. 

And  Myrtle,  equally  anxious  to  see  her,  almost 
ran  home  to  put  on  her  one  best  dress  and  be  back 


410  MYBTLE  BALDWIN 

in  time.  She  was,  and  ten  minutes  ahead,  to  find 
Cindy  awaiting  her.  Then  of  course  they  went  to 
one  of  the  cozy  little  supper  rooms  where  Cindy  at 
once  blurted  out  her  all-important  news. 

"  I'm  going  away,  Mert,"  she  said,  elated,  "  on 
a  big  steam  yacht  to  Florida.  Be  gone  a  month! 
Ain't  it  grand  ?  And  there  is  quite  a  party.  Frank, 
Old  Got-Rocks,  of  course  it's  his  boat,  and  two  other 
men  with  four  other  ladies,  one  an  aunt  of  some- 
body, make-believe  you  know,  to  take  the  curse  off. 
I  hate  to  leave  you,  Mert,"  she  added  hastily, 
"  but  it's  what  I've  dreamed  of  all  my  life  and  I 
must." 

"  I'm  awful  sorry,"  Myrtle  answered  swallowing 
a  rising  lump,  "  I  shall  miss  you,  for  somehow  you 
being  here  makes  me  feel  I  have  one  friend  I  could 
go  to  in  trouble." 

"  Of  course,  but  it  won't  be  long  " —  buoyantly, 
— "  and  now  how  are  you  fixed  for  money,  Mert  ?  " 

"  I've  got  fifteen  dollars  of  my  own  and  the  ten 
you  so  kindly  gave  me.  Its  enough  anyway  unless 
I  get  sick  or  lose  my  place.  I  came  near  it  last  week 
and  may  have  to  leave  the  f  Emporium  '  as  it  is." 

"  Why  so,"  demanded  Cindy,  "  what's  up  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  might  as  well  tell  you,"  responded  Myr- 
tle coloring  and  hesitating.  "I  —  I  was  so  afraid 
my  grandfather  would  follow  me  when  I  left  Folly 


A   WOULD-BE   LECOQ  411 

Island,  I  took  another  name,  Iva  Stone,  and  have 
used  it  ever  since.  You  called  for  me  by  my  own 
name  and  it  gave  me  away.  The  manager  twitted 
me  of  it,  and  —  and  said  things  about  you  and  me 
that  —  that  I  wish  he  hadn't.  He's  been  pestering 
me  too,  but  I  hate  him." 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  he  said,"  returned  Cindy, 
sighing,  "  but  it  can't  be  helped.  I'm  it,  I  know, 
only  I'm  awful  sorry  you  had  to  hear  me  called  that 
name.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  about  your  assum- 
ing another  one  ? " 

"  I  hated  to,  and  I  didn't  think  how  you  might 
use  my  right  one." 

"  Does  he,  Mr.  Mason,  know  you  changed  it  ? " 
queried  Cindy,  eyeing  her  companion  curiously. 

"  Ye-s,"  stammered  Myrtle  blushing,  "  he  —  he 
advised  it." 

And  now  the  astute,  world-wise,  half-bad,  but 
kind-hearted  Cindy,  smiled,  while  a  tender  look 
softened  her  eyes.  "  Myrtle  Baldwin,"  she  said 
with  mock  severity,  "  now  I've  read  your  whole  story 
and  believe  this  man  Mason  loves  you.  I  know  you 
do  him,  and  you  are  a  fool  to  go  on  this  way  any 
longer.  To-morrow  I'm  going  to  tell  him  you  are 
here !  " 

"  No,  you  won't,"  returned  Myrtle  defiantly,  "  not 
if  you  are  my  friend !  He  knows  I  am  here.  I  met 


412  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

him  face  to  face  and  he  never  even  bowed,  just  stared 
at  me  one  moment  and  kept  on." 

Then  Cindy  pursed  her  full  red  lips  and  gave  a 
prolonged  whistle. 

"  The  brute,"  she  exclaimed,  "  the  contemptible, 
cowardly  brute!  And  now  that  you've  given  me 
the  key  to  your  love-story,  my  poor  Mert,"  she  added, 
"  trust  me  with  the  rest.  I  swear  to  God  I'll  never 
betray  you." 

And  then  poor  Myrtle,  soul-sick,  and  deserted  as 
she  believed  herself  to  be,  hungering  for  a  little  sym- 
pathy in  her  heart  sorrows,  put  aside  her  promise 
to  Mark  never  to  betray  his  aid  and  interest,  and 
for  the  first  time  told  her  story  in  full. 

And  no  one  should  blame  her ! 

It  opened  Cindy's  eyes  to  what  honest  love  and 
loyalty  could  mean  —  at  least  they  were  brimming 
with  tears  at  its  close,  and  then  she  gathered  Myrtle 
in  her  arms  and  kissed  her  once,  twice,  thrice. 

"  You  dear  old  splendid,"  she  said  at  the  con- 
clusion of  this  heart  burst,  "  I'd  give  ten  years  of 
my  life  to  care  for  a  man  like  that  and  I  won't  be- 
lieve he  meant  to  cut  you,  either.  I  don't  think  he 
knew  you  at  all.  Where  and  when  did  you  meet 
him  ?  " 

Then  Myrtle  related  in  minute  detail  just  how 
and  where  she  saw  Mark,  that  night. 


A    WOULD-BE    LECOQ  413 

"  He  never  saw  you  to  know  you,"  again  asserted 
Cindy,  "  of  that  I  am  positive.  Men  are  fickle  and 
selfish.  They  can  and  will  make  believe  love  to  sev- 
eral women  at  once,  and  as  for  being  faithful  to 
one,  its  impossible  for  them.  But  that  fellow  Mason 
honestly  cared  for  you  or  he  wouldn't  have  given 
you  money  —  loaned  it  as  you  say  —  and  not  made 
free  with  you  as  an  offset.  That's  a  man's  nature 
always  towards  a  woman,  to  get  his  pay.  It  may  be, 
too,  he  dared  not  know  you  when  with  another  and 
you  dressed  as  poor  as  you  was." 

"  Then  he  didn't  care  for  me !  "  interrupted  Myr- 
tle spiritedly.  "  He  must  have  known  I  couldn't  be 
dressed  nice  unless  I  was  — " 

"  Unless  you  was  doing  as  I  am,"  smiled  Cindy 
intercepting  her  thought,  "  and  all  the  more  reason 
why  he  would  have  noticed  you  had  he  recognized 
you.  I  have  still  another  reason  for  my  belief  it's 
all  a  mistake,"  she  added  hurriedly,  "  Frank  says 
Mason  is  a  woman-hater  or  he  isn't  after  them  at  all. 
Yet  from  your  story  he  was  after  you  pretty  steady 
on  the  island.  I  tell  you,  Mert,  that  man  cared  for 
you,  and  now  for  God's  sake  let  me  go  to  him !  I 
won't  even  let  on  you  are  here  until  I  am  sure  how 
he  feels  and  I  can  soon  tell.  I  can  read  men  like  a 
book,  in  no  time."  Then  this  self-contained,  almost 
imperious  Cindy  who  in  six  months  had  bloomed 


414  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

from  an  ill-clad  illiterate  girl  earning  scanty  wages 
in  a  canning  factory  into  a  richly  garbed  woman  of 
the  town,  wearing  ermine  furs  and  diamonds,  and 
a  keen  cynic  as  well,  smiled  serenely.  "  Trust  me, 
dear,"  she  continued,  "  I  know  how  to  handle  a  man, 
to  pump  him  if  need  be  and  he  won't  even  suspect 
why  I  called  on  him.  I  want  to  do  you  a  good  turn, 
and  please  let  me,  Mert  ?  " 

But  Myrtle  despite  her  heart-hunger  once  more 
shook  her  head.  "  No,  no,  I  won't  let  you  go  to 
him,"  she  responded  slowly  as  if  renouncing  an  offer 
of  heaven,  "  I  can't,  I  can't !  He  would  suspect 
and  I  should  despise  myself  all  my  life!  And  he 
may  care  for  the  woman  he  was  with,  for  all  you 
know  ?  No,  you  sha'n't  go  to  him !  " 

Then  Cindy  looked  at  her  with  admiring,  misty 
eyes.  "  My  dear,"  she  said  tenderly,  "  I  love  you, 
but  you  are  a  fool !  Still  I  wish  I  had  your  pride. 
It's  heroic.  When  I  get  back  I  shall  make  it  my 
way  to  meet  that  man  somehow  for  a  purpose  not  my 
own.  In  the  meantime  you  may  change  your  mind. 
Love  will  conquer  a  good  deal  of  pride  in  time. 
Now  let's  go  to  the  show  and  forget  our  troubles. 
This  is  the  last  evening  I  can  have  with  you  till  I'm 
back  from  Florida." 

Then  this  girl  of  strangely  contrasting  moods  and 
morals  with  some  gold  in  the  alloy,  led  the  way  to  a 
near-by  theatre. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  DEPTHS  OF  AN  EVIL  NATUBE 

WHEJT  a  man  —  no  an  ape  —  of  Parson's  char- 
acter is  thwarted  in  his  pursuit  of  a  woman,  an 
ignoble  revenge  is  all  that  occurs  to  him  and  this  to 
soothe  and  salve  his  wounded  vanity.  And  now  this 
hyena  in  male  raiment  followed  the  same  course. 
He  knew  his  case  was  now  hopeless  with  Myrtle, 
but  he  could  still  annoy,  humiliate,  and  shame  her 
in  countless  ways  and  he  set  about  it  with  fiendish 
cunning.  His  first  move  was  to  traduce  her  with 
the  other  girls  in  his  department.  To  this  end  he 
concocted  and  whispered  an  abominable  story  to  ac- 
count for  her  being  in  the  store  under  an  assumed 
name.  It  was  a  truly  ingenious,  vile  libel,  well 
calculated  to  make  her  despicable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
other  salesgirls.  To  that  he  also  added  his  own 
insolent,  almost  brutal  treatment,  never  bade  her 
good-morning,  or  said  good-night,  called  her  to  ac- 
count sharply  whenever  she  failed  to  make  a  sale, 
used  "  stupid  "  and  "  fool "  in  this  connection,  dis- 
arranged her  stock  occasionally  during  her  noon 
415 


416  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

absence  and  berated  her  for  it;  and  in  numerous 
other  ways  made  her  miserable.  Then  he  informed 
first  one  and  then  another  young  department  man- 
ager that  she  could  be  easily  picked  up  on  the  street 
and  set  them  after  her.  She  soon  became  conscious 
of  his  sudden  change  even  from  the  first  day,  knew 
the  reason  for  it  as  well,  but  proud  as  she  was  made 
no  protest.  Once  only  she  tried  for  a  little  sympa- 
thy from  one  whose  position  was  next  to  her,  to 
receive  a  shrug  of  this  girl's  shoulders  and  the  chilly 
information  that  she  "  had  troubles  of  her  own." 

Then  the  continual  accostings  on  her  way  home 
from  first  one  and  then  another  of  men  she  had  seen 
in  the  store  first  amazed  her,  then  opened  her  eyes 
to  its  meaning.  She  confided  all  this  to  the  Cassidy 
girls  of  course,  but  they  were  powerless  to  aid  her. 

"  It's  a  burnin'  shame,  shure  it  is,"  said  Agnes, 
"  but  I'd  sthop  thim  fellys  from  thrying'  to  pick  me 
up  on  the  strate,  so  I  wud." 

"  How,  please  tell  me  ? "  Myrtle  queried  anx- 
iously. 

"  Aisy  enough,"  returned  Agnes,  "  jist  take  a  lit- 
tle pepper  along  wid  ye  an'  whin  one  spakes  to  ye 
trow  it  in  his  face.  He'll  kape  away  after  that." 

"  That  wudn't  do,"  interrupted  her  mother,  "  she'd 
git  arristed,  so  she  wud,  an'  the  felly 'd  lie  out  uv  it." 

"  I  can't  onderstand  why  God  do  be  lettin'  such 


THE    DEPTHS    OF    AN    EVIL    NATURE  417 

bastes  live  in  this  wurrld,"  added  Agnes,  "  for  all 
they  do  is  harrm.  Jist  livin'  an'  thryin'  their  bist 
to  ruin  girls  an'  sind  their  sowls  to  Purgatory. 
Thin  they  hov  sich  palaverin  ways  wid  'em,  all  lies, 
an'  they  smoile  so  swate  an'  promise  iv'rything! 

"  Most  bad  min  do  be  good-lookers,  too,"  she  con- 
tinued reflectively,  "  an'  girls  will  chase  'em  like 
fools.  Shure  I've  watched  'em  in  the  sthore  many  a 
toime  wid  Parsons  an'  all  he  had  to  do  was  tip 
'em  a  smoile  an'  they  acted  loike  they  was  ready  to 
fall  on  his  neck,  the  sillys !  As  Father  Moony  says, 
1  The  divil  lives  in  a  handsome  man  so  he  can  catch 
sowls.' " 

How  much  shame  and  humiliation  this  cur  Par- 
sons was  able  to  and  did  mete  out  to  Myrtle  during 
the  week  or  more  she  stood  it,  no  girl,  unless  so  sit- 
uated, can  realize.  She  just  felt  she  had  to,  that 
was  all,  or  give  up  her  position  and  perhaps  fail  to 
find  another.  Neither  did  the  box  shop,  where  Mary 
Ann  worked,  prove  a  haven  in  this  extremity,  for 
that  was  to  be  closed  for  inventory  and  repairs  dur- 
ing the  first  two  weeks  of  the  new  year,  the  winter 
months  were  dull  ones  in  that  line  and  no  more  help 
needed,  as  she  was  told,  and  so  poor  Myrtle  was  face 
to  face  with  the  always  hard  problem  of  a  livelihood. 
She  even  went  without  her  "  five  cints  for  ivery- 
thing"  dinner  several  times  to  apply  for  a  place  in 


418  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

other  stores,  but  without  avail.  It  was  always  the 
same  answer,  "  Dull  season  coming,  no  help  wanted." 

And  meanwhile  Parsons  kept  up  his  persecution. 

He  knew  —  the  contemptible  cur- — that  even 
Myrtle's  proud  spirit  could  not  stand  this  forever, 
or  so  he  considered,  and  that  rather  than  lose  her 
place,  or  be  driven  from  it,  she  would  yield  and  ac- 
cept his  favor.  He  had  kept  watch  of  her  move- 
ments, knew  she  had  applied  for  other  positions, 
checkmated  her  chances  in  two  stores  whose  head  man- 
agers he  knew,  by  insinuating  that  she  was  'a  thief 
and  soon  to  be  discharged  from  "  The  Emporium." 
He  had  even  gone  to  M  Street,  made  cautious  in- 
quiries about  the  Cassidy  family,  found  out  where 
Agnes  now  worked  and  sleuthlike,  investigated  the 
box  shop's  prospects,  or  liability  to  need  more  help. 
And  then  a  few  days  before  Christmas  he  waylaid 
Myrtle  once  more.  This  time  it  was  well  away  from 
the  crowded  thoroughfares  and  on  a  side  street  to 
which  he  had  followed  her. 

"  Hold  on,  my  dear,"  he  said  insolently  as  he 
came  up  to  her,  "  and  don't  walk  so  fast.  I've  been 
trying  to  catch  you  for  ten  minutes  and  not  run." 

"  I'm  in  a  hurry,  sir,  and  can't  stop,"  returned 
Myrtle  glancing  at  him  like  a  scared  deer. 

"  Well,  you  better,"  he  responded  bluntly,  "  I've 
something  to  tell  you." 


THE   DEPTHS   OF   Aff    EVll,    NATUBE  419 

But  she  kept  on. 

"  We  are  going  to  fire  a  few  girls  after  Christ- 
mas," he  continued  coming  to  the  point  at  once, 
"  and  it's  up  to  me  to  say  who  in  my  department. 
Now  you  have  been  sassy  to  me,  you  are  not  popular 
with  the  other  girls  on  account  of  some  things  I 
know,  and  now  it's  —  well  be  nice  to  me,  or  lose  your 
job.  And  you  won't  find  another  before  spring  any- 
how!" 

There  was  no  politeness  about  this  barefaced  pro- 
posal or  even  decency  —  just  a  plain  order,  vile  be- 
yond words. 

"  You'd  better  come  off  your  perch,  my  pretty 
maid,"  he  continued  without  waiting  for  her  to 
speak.  "  There's  a  long  cold  winter  ahead  of  you 
and  the  Cassidy  family  won't  board  you  for  noth- 
ing. Then  your  gay  and  festive  friend  has  lit  out, 
I'm  the  only  one  who  can  help  you,  so  come  now, 
don't  be  a  fool  any  longer." 

But  Myrtle,  white  with  suppressed  anger  now 
and  longing  to  strike  this  insulting  fellow  full  in  the 
face,  made  no  answer  for  the  sole  reason  that  a 
week's  wages  would  be  due  her  in  two  days  and  she 
must  have  it.  Neither  was  any  needed,  for  now  she 
knew  the  end  of  her  service  at  "  The  Emporium  " 
had  come.  All  she  did  was  to  bite  her  lips  to  keep 
down  her  boiling  wrath,  then  flashed  one  look  of 


420  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

mortal  hatred  at  the  cur  beside  her,  hissed  "  You 
brute ! "  and  darted  onward  as  she  never  ran 
before. 

And  Parsons  sneaked  back  half  conscious  that  he 
was  one  after  all. 

Neither  did  he  get  the  chance  to  "  fire  "  Myrtle 
as  he  intended,  for  when  Saturday  evening  and  her 
pay  envelope  came  she  walked  out  of  "  The  Em- 
porium "  vowing  never  to  enter  it  again.  Nor  did 
she. 

But  now  she  was  face  to  face  with  an  almost  des- 
perate situation.  No  friends  who  could  aid  her,  no 
work  or  wages  or  place  where  she  could  hope  to  find 
any,  Cindy  gone  and  her  sole  belongings  a  cheap 
trunk,  one  best  dress  and  two  well-worn  ones  and 
nine  dollars  in  money!  It  was  not  possible  to  be 
much  worse  off,  she  now  thought,  and  yet  it  was,  as 
she  in  due  time  found  out.  There  was  another  pos- 
session she  did  not  count  on  and  now  would  not  use 
to  save  her  life  even,  the  one  hundred  dollars  that 
belonged  to  Mark.  It  had  been  treasured  sacredly 
since  she  left  Conway  Hollow,  it  was  now  in  a 
Barker  House  envelope  at  the  bottom  of  her  trunk 
and  in  her  heart  was  the  pathetic  plan  that  if  worst 
came  to  worst  and  she  dying  she  would  send  it  to 
him  with  a  last  message  of  love. 

And  now  also  she  felt  that  that  outcome    might 


"  You  brute  !  "  —  Pnge  420. 


THE    DEPTHS    OF    AN    EVIL    NATUEE  421 

just  as  well  end  her  loneliness,  her  heartache  and  all 
the  shame  of  her  birth. 

But  she  was  not  quite  ready  to  meet  it,  a  faint 
hope  that  she  yet  might  meet  Mark  once  more  on  the 
city's  street  still  cheered  her;  not  to  speak  to  him 
first  —  that  she  would  never  do  now  —  only  that  he 
might  see  her.  A  poor,  simple,  pathetic,  childish 
hope,  akin  to  Folly  Island  and  her  playhouse. 

She  was  here  in  a  great  city,  had  had  her  eyes 
opened  to  many  of  its  dubious  ways  and  evil  influ- 
ences, was  heroic  enough  to  face  probable  want,  even 
utter  destitution  rather  than  sacrifice  her  soul  and 
body,  and  yet  she  was  still  the  idyllic  child  who 
had  fed  and  talked  to  the  sea  gulls,  worked  weeks  to 
build  a  stone  playhouse  and  content  to  sit  beside  it 
watching  the  wide  ocean  while  she  forgot  her  slavery 
in  day  dreams!  More  than  that,  she  was  loyal 
enough  to  her  only  schoolmate  friend,  Cindy,  to  for- 
give her  her  evil  life,  and  broad  enough  to  see  that 
beneath  her  love  of  fine  raiment  and  lack  of  morals 
lay  something  of  a  better  nature  and  the  leaven  of 
a  tender  heart. 

The  day  before  Christmas,  however,  found  Myrtle 
more  than  despondent.  She  had  spent  the  two  pre- 
vious ones  in  a  fruitless  quest  for  work,  going  into 
all  sorts  of  stores  and  almost  begging  for  any  kind 
of  employment.  In  some,  crowded  with  shoppers 


422  MTETLE    BALDWIN 

now,  a  curt  "  no  "  was  all  the  answer  she  obtained, 
one  coarse  man  informed  her  that,  "  a  good-looking 
gal  like  you  no  need  to  work,  come  round  after  we 
close  up,  I  can  give  you  a  job,"  and  in  other  stores 
the  rush  of  customers  allowed  no  chance  for  even 
a  word  of  inquiry.  She  had  tried  business  offices 
with  no  better  results,  she  could  neither  write  very 
well,  she  admitted,  keep  books,  nor  did  she  know 
aught  of  shorthand,  or  the  use  of  a  typewriter,  and 
in  one  and  all  of  the  many  stores  and  offices  she  vis- 
ited, it  seemed  to  her  that  employment  was  the  one 
thing  impossible  to  obtain.  She  could  and  did  find 
brutal  indifference,  scorn  almost,  insinuated  insult 
now  and  then,  but  work,  the  one  most  valued  need 
in  her  life,  not  at  all.  And  late  that  afternoon  faint 
and  weary  —  for  to  save  the  price  she  hadn't  eaten 
a  morsel  since  morning  —  she  walked  down  Bank 
Street  and  halted  in  a  dark  alley  entrance,  just  across 
from  dumber  Forty-two !  It  was  near  closing  time 
for  offices  but  as  the  stores  kept  open  evenings  this 
week,  the  city  was  alight  as  usual  in  December,  a 
rush  of  homeward-bound  people  crowded  the  side- 
walks, and  no  one  noticed  the  scantily  clad  girl 
watching  the  arched  doorway  just  across.  For  a 
half-hour  she  stood  there  shivering  yet  hoping  for 
the  poor,  pitiful  consolation  of  seeing  Mark's  face. 
A  weary,  despondent  pilgrim,  waiting  at  the  shrine 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  AN  EVIL  NATURE-     423 

of  love !  She  did  not  want  him  to  see  her,  felt  sure 
he  would  not  recognize  her  if  he  did,  and  meant 
to  go  away  the  instant  she  saw  his  face.  A  little 
touch  of  heart-hunger,  childlike  in  its  pathos! 

But  not  even  this  reward  was  obtained  for  the  ex- 
cellent reason  that  Mark  was  out  of  the  city,  and 
after  all  outcomers  from  Forty-two  had  ceased,  Myr- 
tle chilled  through  now,  stepped  out  from  her  vantage 
point. 

And  just  then  she  found  herself  face  to  face  with 
the  dapper  little  fellow  of  red  necktie  and  loud  rai- 
ment who  had  tried  his  arts  on  her  at  Conway  Hol- 
low! 

"  Vy,  Mish  Stone,"  he  exclaimed  eagerly,  "  how 
vash  you  und  ven  did  you  leaf  de  Barker  House  ? 
Pless  me,  but  dis  vash  great  luck,"  and  he  extended 
his  hand.  "  Von't  you  shake  hands  mit  me,"  he 
added  as  Myrtle  ignored  it,  "  you  know  I  fell  in  luv 
mit  you  lasht  summer  und  I  don't  forget  you." 

"  I  don't  remember  you,  sir !  "  she  answered  in 
icy  tones  and  stepping  onward, 

"  But  I  know  you  do,"  rejoined  this  uncrushable 
drummer,  "  und  now  I  vants  to  puy  you  somedings 
if  you  vill  come  mit  me.  I  vill  plow  meinself  if  you 
do  und  a  bottle  of  wine  mit  supper;  I  vill  so  help 
me!" 

Then  Conway  Hollow  and  Norah's  trick  recurred 


424  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

to  Myrtle  on  the  instant  almost  bringing  a  smile  to 
her  sad  face,  yet  she  would  not  parley  with  this  in- 
solent fellow  one  moment. 

"I  wouldn't  go  to  supper  with  you  if  I  was 
starving,"  she  responded  in  utter  contempt,  "  you 
may  get  one  of  the  Barker  House  table  girls  to  meet 
you  at  the  post  office  however,  but  I  wouldn't  wipe 
my  shoes  on  you,"  and  then  she  hurried  on. 

But  even  this  scorn  failed  to  check  his  persisting 
and  not  until  he  had  pursued  her  up  to  the  main 
street  still  entreating  her  to  let  him  "  puy  some- 
dings,"  did  he  desist  from  his  efforts.  And  then 
once  free  from  him  Myrtle  halted  to  look  into  a  store 
window  and  collect  herself  as  it  were.  She  was 
faint  from  the  all  day  fasting,  chilled  through  by  the 
half-hour  of  watching  for  Mark  and  utterly  hopeless 
and  despondent.  Christmas  eve  or  the  day's  ob- 
servance had  no  meaning  for  her.  She  had  heard  of 
its  gift-giving  joys  in  a  furtive  way  at  Sandy  Bay, 
but  none  at  Folly  Island,  and  now,  watching  the 
stream  of  joy-lit  faces  passing  her,  scores  of  people 
carrying  bundles,  and  all  animated  by  this  Yule-tide 
interest;  poor  Myrtle  felt  more  desolate  and  hope- 
less by  contrast.  And  just  then  as  if  to  accentuate 
her  heartache,  a  richly  clad  lady  and  gentleman 
halted  beside  her  to  look  into  the  store  window. 

"  Oh,  see  that  lovely  set  of  furs,  Hubby,"  the  lady 


THE    DEPTHS    OF    AN    EVIL    NATURE  425 

exclaimed,  "  and  just  what  Iva  needs  this  winter 
when  she  goes  out!  And  there  is  the  cunningest 
wrap  for  Doris  too !  Dear  Hubby,  I  must  add  them 
to  our  collection  of  gifts !  " 

"  Well,  if  you  must,  you  must,"  '  dear  Hubby ' 
admitted  benevolently,  "  I  s'pose  they'll  need  'em 
later,  anyway,"  and  the  two  vanished  into  the  store. 

Some  other  Iva  was  to  be  made  happy,  Myrtle 
thought,  feeling  a  new  interest  in  her  assumed  name, 
and  then  —  well  for  all  this  money-spending,  gift- 
buying  crowd  cared  she  might  starve!  And  more 
than  ever  now  her  future  seemed  utterly  without 
hope. 

But  the  spirit  and  animus  of  this  the  one  most 
joyous  holiday  of  all,  Christmas,  was  now  caught  by 
Myrtle  and  despite  her  poverty  and  the  outlook  she 
bethought  herself  of  her  few  friends  and  gifts  for 
them.  Not  costly,  for  her  purse  contained  less  than 
four  dollars,  only  that  much  she  would  spend  for  love 
of  them.  She  did  too,  though  pushed  and  jostled 
by  the  eager,  buying  crowd  of  late  shoppers,  and 
then  with  a  knitted  hood  for  Mrs.  Cassidy,  a  hand- 
kerchief for  Mary  Ann,  gloves  for  Agnes,  and  a  pipe 
for  Tim,  and  denying  herself  a  car  ride,  Myrtle 
walked  to  M  Street  thankful  that  she  even  had  this 
home  for  refuge. 

But  how  long  could  she  retain  it,  she  now  thought, 


426  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

entering  and  going  direct  to  her  room.  These  peo- 
ple barely  existed  as  it  was.  Eent  day  and  store 
bills  absorbed  all  they  collectively  earned.  Both 
girls  were  to  be  out  of  work  soon  for  two  weeks  and 
perhaps  longer,  she  could  not  and  would  not  remain 
a  burden  on  them  and  —  she  now  had  just  six  dol- 
lars and  thirty  cents! 

But  Mrs.  Cassidy,  hopeful  soul  that  she  was,  met 
her  smilingly  when  she  descended  to  the  kitchen. 
"  What  luck,  darlin',"  she  asked  cheerily,  "  did  ye 
foind  iver  a  place  the  day  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Myrtle  despondently,  "  arid  I  am 
about  discouraged.  No  one  wants  me  in  this  world, 
I  guess." 

"  An'  shure  they  do,"  that  optimistic  one  an- 
swered, "  your  swate  face'll  foind  ye  a  job  soon 
enough,  niver  fear,"  and  then  Myrtle  joined  with 
her  in  the  supper-getting.  The  two  girls  came  in 
soon  after,  Tim,  a  stout  lad  of  eighteen,  a  little  later, 
the  big  bowl  of  steaming  potato  soup  —  mostly  soup 
—  was  placed  on  the  table  and  with  "  tay "  and 
bread  and  butter,  formed  the  meal.  Later  Mary 
Ann  assaulted  the  ancient,  out-of-tune  piano,  played 
a  hit  or  miss  accompaniment  and  sang  "  Wearing  of 
the  Green  "  and  "  Kathleen  Mavourneen  "  with  vigor, 
then  rattled  off  a  few  dance  tunes,  and  so  the  evening 
passed.  When  retiring  time  came  both  girls  —  con- 


THE   DEPTHS    OF   AN    EVIL    NATURE  427 

scious,  perhaps,  how  Myrtle  felt  —  kissed  her  with 
unusual  tenderness,  and  yet  neither  Mrs.  Cassidy's 
well-meant  optimism  or  the  honest  affection  of  these 
girls  served  to  ease  her  heartache  one  iota ! 

The  next  morning  with  its  gift-exchanging  epi- 
sode —  Myrtle  received  one  from  each  of  the  girls 
—  cheered  her  some,  and  then  these  three  donned 
their  very  best  and  hurried  away  to  attend  church. 
In  a  way,  also,  Myrtle  was  now  becoming  a  good 
Catholic  —  at  least  outwardly  —  for  she  had  never 
once  missed  a  church  going  with  them  since  reaching 
Athens  and  felt  herself  the  gainer  by  it.  This  time 
most  of  all,  for  the  great  Cathedral  was  packed  full 
of  young  and  old  worshipers,  the  chancel  and  altars 
half  hidden  by  foliage  and  flowers,  the  priests  in 
white  vestments  repeated  Latin  rituals  and  prayers 
in  solemn,  awe-inspiring  tones,  and  the  joyous  an- 
thems of  this  Christmas  Mass,  made  forceful  by  a 
hundred  voices,  was  simply  grand!  At  least  it  so 
seemed  to  Myrtle  and  lifted  her  above  and  beyond 
her  own  misfortunes  and  into  another  realm  of  feel- 
ing. Who  this  Great  Redeemer,  this  wonderful 
Son  of  God,  whose  birth  was  now  being  celebrated 
was,  however,  appeared  a  trifle  vague  to  her.  She 
had,  once  only  on  Folly  Island  at  midnight  and  in 
desperate  mood,  knelt  and  uttered  a  prayer  to  Some 
One  —  whom,  she  scarce  knew  —  here  she  knelt  with 


428  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

the  rest  but  prayed  not  at  all.  And  yet  she  felt  that 
she  ought  to  do  so  and  that  may  be  some  unseen 
hand  might  be  extended  in  aid  if  she  did.  She  could 
read  faces  and  moods,  too,  now,  and  those  around 
her  here  seemed  alight  with  some  strange,  occult 
joy,  the  source  of  which  she  failed  to  understand. 
In  a  way,  however,  she  felt  herself  one  with  them, 
rejoicing  at  some  great  promise  with  them  and  ele- 
vated into  another  world  by  a  mysterious,  occult 
Something!  Tears  also  came  to  her  eyes  unbidden, 
her  sensitive  soul  vibrated  in  harmony  with  this 
mystic  influence,  to  die  now  seemed  a  welcome  es- 
cape from  trouble  and  heart-hunger,  and  all  in  all, 
this  quivering,  pulsing,  magic  of  sound  and  song 
produced  an  almost  delirium  of  feeling. 

It  was  not  many  hours  ere  she  returned  to  earth, 
however,  and  to  feel  that  all  hope  was  vanishing. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

CHRISTMAS  AT  GOOD  WILL,  FARM 

IT  had  been  Mark's  custom  since  his  graduation 
from  Mr.  Hinckley's  aid  to  spend  each  Christmas 
at  Good  Will  Farm  and  now  as  this  one  drew  near 
he  planned  to  do  so  again.  There  were  new  and 
unusual  reasons  for  it  this  time  which  must  be  ex- 
plained. 

In  the  first  place,  Mark  had  fallen  into  a  melan- 
choly frame  of  mind,  as  he  was  perfectly  conscious. 
His  hopeless  quest  of  Myrtle ;  all  the  months  of  wait- 
ing for  an  answer  to  his  ads,  his  finding  of  her  mother 
instead,  his  rush  to  Conway  Hollow  to  meet  bitter 
disappointment,  his  almost  ludicrous  pursuit  of  this 
ISTorah  Cassidy  also  failing,  and  lastly  his  final  visit 
to  Folly  Island  —  most  depressing  of  all  —  each  and 
collectively  served  to  discourage  him.  He  had  never 
been  in  love  before.  He  now  had  a  mature  case  of 
that  malady  that  came  much  as  a  man  would  fall 
over  a  wheelbarrow;  to  thump  him  a  few  times  after 
he  was  down.  In  this  case  the  heart-blows  came 

429 


430  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

hardest  after  he  found  the  object  of  that  organ's 
needs  was  apparently  lost  forever. 

Then  her  mother's  abject  penitence  and  anxiety 
also  affected  him.  She  was  so  trustful  yet  wise,  so 
confiding  and  tender,  so  like  Myrtle  in  fact,  his  heart 
went  out  to  her  with  filial  love.  He  had  also  vis- 
ited Glendale  and  her  home  once  to  be  present  at 
the  marriage  of  her  foster-daughter,  and  find  the 
son  old  enough  to  care  for  himself.  Also  that  Mrs. 
Upson  could  leave  here  any  time  she  choose  and  ac- 
cept a  home  where  it  best  suited  her  to  do  so. 

She  had  been  his  guest  at  The  Elms,  escorted  to 
theatres  a  few  times  —  one  a  most  unfortunate  time 
—  and  their  future  relations  thus  made  possible. 
But  the  one  now  vital  link,  Myrtle,  was  lacking  and 
as  he  oft  said  to  himself  with  many  an  unbidden 
sigh,  "  God  only  knows  where  she  is." 

In  a  way,  too,  these  months  of  futile  pursuit,  the 
constant  hoping,  watching,  waiting,  the  letters  he 
had  written,  the  every-day  scanning  of  faces  wher- 
ever he  went,  was  slowly  but  surely  making  a  mis- 
anthrope of  him.  No  business  interest  held  his  at- 
tention for  long,  money-making  became  a  secondary 
matter,  his  club  no  longer  attracted  him,  friends 
bored  him,  and  the  brightest  comedy  failed  to  bring 
a  smile  to  his  face,  for  all  the  time  he  felt  that, 
somewhere  in  this  busy  world  the  tender,  pathetic, 


CHRISTMAS    AT    GOOD  WILL    FARM  431 

odd  little  waif  who  had  trusted  him  like  a  child  was 
fighting  for  existence  —  or  perhaps  dead. 

And  then  would  come  a  heart-pang ;  keen,  incisive, 
and  ruinous  to  his  peace  of  mind. 

Her  mother's  future  also  became  linked  with  his 
by  the  occult  tie  of  mutual  interest.  Once  a  week 
they  exchanged  letters,  his  beginning  "  My  dear 
Mother,"  and  in  a  way  she  began  to  fill  the  maternal 
void  in  his  past  life  and  become  one  he  could  trust 
and  confide  in.  For  these  reasons  and  because  Good 
Will  Farm  had  always  seemed  home  to  him  and  Mr. 
Hinckley  a  father,  he  not  only  wanted  to  pass  this 
Yuletide  there  but  have  Mrs.  Upson  as  well.  Mr. 
Hinckley  seconded  this  wish  with  a  cordial  invita- 
tion to  her,  and  the  very  afternoon  poor  Myrtle 
watched  for  him  so  hopeless  and  despondent  he  and 

her  mother  met  at  B Junction  and  proceeded 

to  Good  Will  Farm. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hinckley  met  them  at  the  little 
station  of  Hinckley,  introductions  and  greetings  fol- 
lowed, and  then  all  four  with  a  small  retinue  of 
Good  Will  boys  hastened  away  over  the  snow  clad 
road  to  a  home  of  content.  There  seemed  to  be 
many  of  them  all  about,  for  it  was  evening  now 
and  cheering  lights  from  a  score  of  windows  smiled 
a  welcome.  Even  Good  Will's  little  Gothic  church 
added  one  for  it  was  alight  as  they  passed  it  and 


432  MYKTLE    BALDWIN 

from  within  came  the  sound  of  young  voices  sing- 
ing in  chorus,  a  "  Peace  on  Earth,  Good  Will  to 
Men  "  anthem. 

Warm  rooms,  cordial  interest  and  supper  came 
next,  A  few  of  Mr.  Hinckley's  co-workers  dropped 
in  later  to  meet  these  arrivals,  conversation  and  a  gen- 
eral resume  of  Good  Will's  hopes  and  attainments 
from  its  master  spirit  followed,  but  not  until  the 
callers  departed  was  aught  said  of  pertinent  relation 
to  this  narrative  and  then  from  Mr.  Hinckley : 

"  Well,  Mark  my  boy,"  he  then  asked  in  his  direct 
way,  "  how  does  the  world  go  with  you  and  have 
you  found  your  sweetheart  yet  ? " 

"  No,"  returned  Mark,  his  face  growing  gloomy, 
"  and  what  is  worse  I  fear  I  never  shall.  I  thought 
I'd  got  track  of  her  once  but  failed.  I  begin  to  think 
I  never  can  find  her." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  will,"  declared  his  host,  beginning 
a  noiseless  tattoo  of  fingers  on  the  arms  of  his  chair, 
as  was  his  wont  when  speaking.  "  In  your  last 
letter  you  said  you  had  traced  her  to  a  Conway  Hol- 
low hotel,  surely  some  one  there  must  hear  from  her 
in  time,  or  she  may  return  to  it  another  summer. 
Don't  give  up  hope  yet." 

"  Possibly,"  responded  Mark,  his  face  brightening, 
"  I  hadn't  thought  of  that." 

"  Nor  I,"   interrupted  Mrs.   Upson,   "  for  if  she 


CHRISTMAS    AT    GOOD   WILL    FARM  433 

has  gone  to  a  mill  town  with  this  Norah  as  I've 
imagined,  they  may  both  return  to  the  Barker  House 
next  summer.  But  my  heart  will  break  before  that 
time,"  she  added  with  a  sigh. 

And  then  Mrs.  Hinckley  glanced  at  her  curiously 
for  her  history  now  known  seemed  such  a  pitiful 
one. 

"  My  heart  goes  out  to  you,  Mrs.  Upson,"  she 
interposed  tenderly,  "  as  only  a  mother's  can.  And 
I  pray  God  you  may  not  be  kept  waiting  so  long. 
Out  of  all  the  life  tragedies  I  ever  heard  not  one 
seems  so  pathetic  as  yours.  And  to  know  your  child 
is  alone  in  this  great  world,  no  one  to  watch  over 
her,  save  her  from  evil  pitfalls,  it  must  be  horri- 
ble." 

"  No  one  can  understand  how  much  so  but  my- 
self," sighed  Mrs.  Upson,  "  for  her  life  and  situation 
is  my  constant  reproach.  Some  days  I  feel  I  shall 
lose  my  reason  from  this  dread  suspense." 

"  But  self-reproaches  do  no  good,  my  dear 
woman,"  Mr.  Hinckley  interrupted,  buoyantly,  for 
he  always  saw  the  silver  lining,  "  you  still  have  your 
life  to  live,  your  spiritual  work  to  do  —  I  hope  you 
have  some  —  and  retrospection  is  worse  than  use- 
less. God  has  put  us  here  to  bear  our  burdens  cheer- 
fully, assume  those  of  others  who  are  weaker  if  we 
can,  and  so  live  and  strive  that  to-day  may  be 


434  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

brighter  for  some  one  and  to-morrow  more  hopeful. 
What  mistakes  and  errors  of  judgment  our  youth 
is  responsible  for,  do  not  concern  to-day,  Mrs.  Upson, 
and  unfit  us  for  work."  Then  turning  to  Mark  he 
added :  "  Have  you  been  to  Folly  Island,  my  boy, 
since  you  were  here  and  did  you  foreclose  the  mort- 
gage ? " 

"  Yes,  I  was  there,"  Mark  answered  slowly,  "  but 
I  didn't  say  much  about  my  claim.  Somehow  Cap'n 
Jud  wasn't  in  the  mood  to  talk  business.  Not  just 
glad  to  see  me,"  and  then  he  smiled. 

"  No,  I  presume  not ;  no  one  ever  wants  to  discuss 
a  mortgage,"  laughed  Mr.  Hinckley,  who  had  had 
youthful  troubles  of  his  own.  "  But  how  was  he 
feeling,  was  he  happy  ?  " 

"  Not  very,  I  imagine,"  Mark  replied  smiling 
again,  "  he  has  no  pictures  on  the  walls  of  his  brain- 
cell  except  of  devils  may  be." 

"  Then  you  do  think  he  has  a  conscience  after 
all ,"  rejoined  Mr.  Hinckley,  "  from  what  you  said 
I  supposed  otherwise." 

"  He  has  what  is  worse,"  returned  Mark  point- 
edly, "  fear  of  ghosts.  He  believes  Myrtle  drowned 
herself  and  her  shade  is  haunting  him.  I  am  glad 
of  it."  Then  he  related  the  visit  Mrs.  Upson  and 
himself  had  paid  to  Folly  Island  and  its  outcome. 
After  that,  the  one  subject  nearest  his  heart,  his  fail- 


CHRISTMAS   AT    GOOD  WILL,    FARM  435 

lire  to  find  Myrtle  was  recurred  to  and  his  hunt  for 
the  elusive  Norah  described  in  full. 

"  I  still  believe  your  lost  lady-love  will  be  found 
in  due  time/'  asserted  Mr.  Hinckley  encouragingly, 
when  a  pause  came.  "  From  your  description,  her 
dauntless  courage  in  running  away  from  Folly  Is- 
land into  an  unknown  world,  almost,  I  am  sure  she 
is  of  unusual  fibre  and  will  never  throw  herself 
away.  Such  a  spirit  will  find  her  employment  and 
friends  the  world  over,  never  fear." 

"  And  may  be  a  husband,"  interposed  Mark  rue- 
fully, "  then  where  do  I  come  in  ?  " 

"  Well  you  are  left,  that  is  all,"  laughed  Mr. 
Hinckley,  "but  I  don't  foresee  that.  She  practi- 
cally confided  herself  to  your  keeping  when  she 
promised  to  meet  you;  no  girl  of  her  nature  would 
do  that  unless  love  was  the  motive  force,  and  she 
won't  forget  you  easily.  Some  day,  all  in  good  time, 
she  may  walk  into  your  office  well-garbed  and  smil- 
ing." 

"  I'd  like  to  witness  the  call,"  interjected  Mrs. 
Hinckley,  also  smiling,  "  and  yet  it  would  be  wrong 
to  spoil  such  a  denouement,  I'm  sure." 

And  that  Christmas  eve  passed  so  pleasantly  in 
what  seemed  like  home  to  Mark,  with  good  cheer,  en- 
couraging words,  and  warm  friends  grouped  about, 
lifted  him  into  a  more  hopeful  mood  and  made  him 


436  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

feel  almost  sure  he  was  to  find  Myrtle  soon.  Then 
somehow  Mr.  Hinckley's  always  buoyant  optimism 
gave  him  an  added  confidence  in  Myrtle's  good  sense 
and  assurance  that  she  must  have  loved  him,  also  and 
best  of  all,  that  her  heroic  self-reliance  and  courage 
would  shield  her  from  any  harm.  This  again 
brought  him  to  the  belief  that  she  would  in  the 
near  future  so  gain  in  confidence  that  she  would  send 
some  message  to  him  —  she  knew  where  to  find  him, 
and  why  not?  And  so  the  inevitable  result  of  one 
man's  earnest  faith  now  came  about  and  Mark  es- 
caped a  little  of  his  melancholy  mood. 

The  next  day  added  more  cheer,  for  the  sun  rose 
bright  over  the  snow-clad,  undulating  fields  of  Good 
Will  Farm,  and  this  being  the  one  best  holiday  of 
the  year  for  its  almost  two  hundred  boys  and  girls, 
scores  of  them  were  already  sliding,  snowballing,  and 
snow-scrubbing  one  another  in  a  mad  abandon  of 
good  spirits  and  happiness. 

"  We  must  show  Mrs.  Upson  our  little  village  and 
new  library,"  Mr.  Hinckley  asserted,  soon  after 
breakfast,  "  also  how  our  boys  and  girls  live,  work, 
play,  and  study.  We  have  a  regular  division  of 
work  among  them,  a  detail  of  so  many  each  day  to 
do  certain  things,  so  many  hours  for  that  and  so 
many  hours  for  study  with  interims  for  play  and  a 
little  religious  instruction.  In  summer  the  work- 


CHRISTMAS    AT    GOOD   WILL    FARM  437 

hours  are  longer  for  we  raise  everything  eaten  here, 
even  our  meats,  and  are  a  community  by  ourselves. 
We  have  our  own  simple  by-laws,  as  it  were;  class 
gradations  in  school  with  an  honor  record  to  stimu- 
late study,  publish  a  newspaper  of  our  own,  the  boys 
have  two  baseball  clubs,  two  football  teams,  and  the 
girls  tennis  and  basket-ball  teams.  We  have  a  gym- 
nasium and  swimming  pool  and  even  make  most  of 
our  own  clothing. 

"  To-day,"  he  added,  pausing  for  breath,  "  we 
have  a  vocal  concert  in  our  church,  I  shall  make  a 
few  remarks,  then  our  Christmas  tree  will  be  un- 
veiled and  Santa  Glaus  will  present  each  boy  and 
girl  some  useful  gift.  I  think,"  he  continued,  smil- 
ing, "  there  are  thirty-four  pairs  of  skates  in  the 
list,  sixteen  sleds,  with  warm  gloves,  mittens,  caps, 
hoods,  popcorn  balls  and  candy  by  the  bushel,  for  no 
one  is  forgotten." 

The  tour  of  Good  Will  consumed  an  hour, —  and 
hurried  at  that  —  then  Mark,  Mrs.  Upson  and  all 
the  grown-ups  of  this  colony  gathered  in  the  cozy 
Gothic  church  and  after  the  briefest  of  prayers  from 
Mr.  Hinckley  the  forty  or  more  young  singers  began 
their  concert  program.  It  was  all  new  and  inter- 
esting to  Mrs.  Upson  —  also  heart-warming  to  Mark 
for  obvious  reasons  —  and  afterwards,  Mr.  Hinck- 
ley's  remarks,  so  characteristic  of  this  true  philan- 


438  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

thropist,  who  has  made  a  life-work  of  rearing  home- 
less, parentless  boys  and  girls,  that  they  may  well  be 
quoted  in  full. 

"  Dear  children,  and  friends,"  he  said  — 
"  To-day  is  the  most  sacred  and  inspiring  of  all 
we  celebrate,  the  natal  day  of  our  blessed  Saviour. 
It  is  a  day  of  rejoicing,  of  good  cheer,  of  good-fel- 
lowship the  world  over.  A  day  when  all  Christen- 
dom becomes  one  in  spirit  and  impulse,  in  generous 
deeds  and  a  better  conception  of  God  and  our  own 
duties.  To-day  we  exemplify  the  truism  that  it  is 
more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,  to-day  we  live 
for  others  and  deny  ourselves  that  others  may  re- 
joice. And  why?  Because  to-day  a  new  hope  was 
born  in  the  person  of  Christ,  a  new  heaven,  almost, 
where  mercy,  charity,  and  love  shall  reign.  And 
now,  my  children,  my  boys  and  girls,  I  feel  to  call 
you,  let  the  lesson  of  this  day  be  a  motive  force  in 
your  lives.  You  have  been  made  happy  to-day; 
learn  that  you  in  turn  should  so  live  and  act  as  to 
make  those  around  you  rejoice  as  well.  Your  edu- 
cation and  attainments  are  not  for  yourselves  alone 
but  for  others  as  well.  You  are  young,  opportuni- 
ties are  before  you,  the  world  honors  the  men  and 
women  who  make  the  most  of  theirs;  who  live,  not 
for  self  but  for  others.  Think  of  yourselves  you 
must,  but  not  always.  Think  of  others  as  well  and 


CHRISTMAS    AT    GOOD  WTLL    FAKM  439 

when  the  chance  somes  to  do  for  them,  do  it  speedily, 
bravely,  and  generously.  Keep  high  ideals  in  mind. 
Realize  what  others  have  done  for  public  good. 
What  sacrifices  of  time,  money  and  even  life.  Do 
something  yourselves!  Every  word  and  act  counts 
in  the  grand  total!  Be  heard-of  in  good  deeds. 
Do  what  the  world  will  applaud.  Not  for  fame, 
but  to  make  the  world  better,  brighter,  and  more 
worth  living  in.  And  above  and  beyond  all,  dear 
children,  remember  that  whosoever  lives  most  un- 
selfishly is  doing  our  Saviour's  work,  and  joining  the 
impress  of  this  Christmas  day  with  that  of  all  days." 

A  brief  benediction  and  words  of  dismissal  came 
next,  the  young  congregation  filed  out  with  due  de- 
corum, then  trooped  away  in  bunches  again  to  begin 
their  hilarious,  wholesome  sports  until  the  dinner 
call  rounded  them  up  once  more. 

But  all  the  cordial  home  atmosphere  of  Good  Will 
—  well  named  —  all  its  pertinent  example  of  what 
one  self-sacrificing  man  can  do,  only  served  to  make 
Mark  realize  how  helpless,  how  miserable  poor  Myr- 
tle must  now  be.  How  she,  without  much  education, 
no  home  memories,  no  Christmas  days  to  recall,  no 
precept  and  example  of  love  and  kindness  to  en- 
courage, was  perhaps  fighting  for  bread,  for  shelter, 
for  clothing  and  her  honor  may  be ;  alone  and  friend- 
less in  a  great  world ! 


440  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

He  was  helpless  to  act.  He  had  done  all  that 
time,  thought,  and  money  could  do.  Where  she  had 
gone  or  what  she  was  doing  was  a  blank  wall,  a  pall 
of  darkness.  He  had  endured  it  now  for  five  months 
with  only  one  gleam  of  fitful  light  and  it  seemed 
likely  that  it  must  always  shadow  his  life.  Even 
Mr.  Hinckley's  cheery  "  Good-bye,  and  God  bless 
you,  my  boy,  come  again,"  at  parting  failed  to 
lighten  it  much.  And  when  Mark  and  Mrs.  Upson 

parted  at  B Junction,  he  to  speed  onward,  alone 

toward  the  city,   back  came  his  melancholic  mood 
once  more. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE    LAST    OF   ASKING 

FOR  two  weeks  now  Myrtle  had  tramped  the 
streets  of  Athens  in  a  vain  search  for  some  employ- 
ment Her  one  pair  of  shoes  were  worn  out  com- 
pletely, her  clothing  —  too  thin  for  winter  exposure 
—  shrank  from  many  snow  and  rain  soakings  and 
dryings,  the  edges  of  her  skirts  were  frayed,  her 
cheeks  sunken  and  eyes  hollow  from  heart-breaking 
worry,  loss  of  dinners  and  scanty  food  each  night  and 
morn.  She  had  heen  insulted  by  brutal  men  who 
classed  her  as  vile,  mud-splashed  by  the  prancing 
horses  of  the  wealthy,  and  to  crown  all,  was  escorted 
to  the  station  house  once  by  an  over-zealous  police- 
man and  only  escaped  confinement  through  her  tear- 
fully told  tale.  This  latter  humiliation  was  also  the 
outcome  of  Parson's  vile  spirit  for  she  had  been 
pointed  out  to  this  officer  by  him  as  one  he  should 
arrest.  Her  money  in  the  meantime  had  dwindled 
to  four  dollars  for  she  had  to  have  another  pair  of 
shoes  and  as  the  Cassidy  girls  were  still  out  of  work, 

441 


442  MYETLE   BALDWIN 

Myrtle  perforce  knew  she  must  pay  for  her  board. 
Then  food  here  grew  thinner  and  less  of  it.  Po- 
tato soup  with  scarcely  any  meat,  stale  fish,  bread 
without  butter,  and  steeped-over  tea  without  milk 
comprised  it,  and  still  further  to  cripple  this  poor 
family,  Tim  fell  off  his  tip-cart  one  cold  day  and 
broke  his  arm.  Their  coal  bin  grew  low,  rent  day 
was  staved  off  by  a  partial  payment  and  then  one 
evening  in  a  kind  of  mutual  need  discussion  it  trans- 
pired that  some  restaurants  in  the  business  portion 
of  the  city  had  girls  who  served  there  through  the 
mid-day  for  their  dinners  only.  Myrtle  took  the 
hint  —  not  meant  —  and  next  day  went  in  search 
of  such  a  chance.  But  the  dull  season  was  on,  other 
shop-girls  beside  herself  were  idle,  and  she  failed  to 
find  even  a  chance  to  wait  on  table  for  a  meal. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  am  going  to  do,"  she 
moaned  to  Agnes  that  night,  "  I  can't  find  any  work, 
my  money  is  'most  gone,  and  I  can't  stay  without 
paying,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  ye  can  a  spell,"  asserted  Agnes  who  knew 
the  family's  condition,  "  we  won't  turn  ye  into  the 
strate,  niver,  but  uv  course  the  rint  must  be  paid." 

A  last  resort  admission,  somewhat  like  that  of 
starving  sailors  on  a  raft  who  assert  lots  must  be 
drawn  to  decide  who  shall  be  eaten. 

"  Have  ye  iver  a  thing  ye  kin  pawn  ? "   Agnes 


THE    LAST    OP   ASKING  443 

added  hopefully.  "  Jist  fer  a  wake  or  two  an'  by 
then  ye  may  fiird  a  place." 

"  Nothing  but  my  best  dress,"  answered  Myrtle 
sadly,  for  she  now  knew  the  meaning  of  the  three- 
ball  sign, — "  and  I  must  put  that  on  soon,  this  is 
'most  worn  out,"  and  she  glanced  at  her  frayed  and 
much-soiled  skirt. 

"  But  we  can  mind  it,"  rejoined  Agnes,  well  used 
to  makeshifts,  "  let's  see  the  ither,"  and  it  was  shown 
her. 

"  Ye  cud  git  six  dollars  on  it  an'  maybe  siven," 
she  added  examining  the  simply-made  waist  criti- 
cally. "  It's  foine  silk,  shure,  but  not  much,  trim- 
min'." 

"  I'd  hate  to  part  with  it,"  sighed  Myrtle,  "  it's 
the  only  nice  dress  I  ever  had."  Then  she  stroked 
its  glossy  folds  fondly. 

But  now  the  pinching  of  dull  times  and  poverty 
grew  worse  for  a  bitter  cold  week  set  in,  the  Gas- 
sidy  coal  bin  was  empty,  no  food  in  the  house  and 
only  three  dollars  in  reserve  towards  next  rent  day. 

"  Shure  we  haven't  much  to  ate,  me  darlin's," 
asserted  Mrs.  Cassidy  that  morning,  pouring  the 
last  of  the  coal  on  the  kitchen  fire,  "  an'  we  do  be 
owin'  the  ghrocers  twinty-one  dollars,  the  coal  man 
twilve,  an'  I  hate  to  ax  for  more  thrust."  Then  she 
glanced  at  Tim  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  at  her  two 


444  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

daughters  both  watching  her,  and  Myrtle  most  sol- 
emn-faced of  all. 

"  I  can  go  to  the  thracks  an'  pick  up  a  hod  o'  coal 
the  day/'  asserted  Tim,  "  me  one  arm  is  good." 

"  An'  I  can  go  to  the  bake-shop  fer  a  basket  o' 
stale  bread  an'  cake,  it's  a  quarther  a  basket,"  added 
the  city-wise  Agnes. 

"  And  I  will  pay  for  my  this  week's  board  and 
room,"  admitted  Myrtle,  conscious  that  her  fate  was 
linked  to  these  people,  temporarily. 

But  it  left  her  only  forty  cents  and  a  realization 
that  the  grim  spectre  of  utter  destitution  was  drawing 
nearer.  And  that  day,  weakened  as  she  now  was 
from  lack  of  nourishing  food,  almost  hopeless  of 
finding  work,  with  this  family's  pitiful  plight  to  ac- 
centuate her  situation,  she  started  out  to  find  some- 
thing —  anything  to  do. 

It  was  bitterly  cold,  store  windows  were  white- 
frosted,  the  small  ones  bordering  Poverty  Land, 
Myrtle  now  visited,  were  minus  any  customers,  their 
proprietors  cross  and  surly,  and  this  woe-begone, 
scantily  clad,  shivering  girl,  was  accorded  scarce  a 
word.  A  dozen  of  them  were  tried  by  her  without 
result,  except  to  depress  her,  then  she  turned  her 
steps  over  to  the  city's  more  important  marts.  Dry 
goods,  shoe,  millinery,  jewelry,  and  even  hardware 
stores  were  tried  by  this  desperate,  courageous  girl, 


THE    LAST    OF    ASKING  445 

but  none  needed  such  as  her.  She  entered  florists', 
to  recall  her  own  little  flower  garden  sadly,  and  ask 
for  work.  She  visited  candy  stores,  book,  notion, 
glove  and  drug  stores,  and  finally  tried  restaurants 
again,  and  offered  to  wash  dishes,  scrub  floors  or  do 
anything  for  her  meals.  But  she  \vas  ill-clad,  haggard, 
decidedly  sorrowful-looking,  and  no  one  in  this  cold, 
selfish  world  ever  needs  such  personages.  The  sight 
and  smell  of  food  first  made  her  ravenous,  then  faint 
and  dizzy,  her  body  was  numb  and  chilled  all  over, 
and  late  that  afternoon  and  feeling  that  she  might 
as  well  sit  down  in  some  obscure  corner  and  freeze 
to  death  —  a  painless  going  she  had  heard  —  she 
turned  her  steps  once  more  to  Bank  Street,  and  the 
dark  covered  alleyway  just  across  from  Number 
Forty-two,  then  chilled  to  the  bone  she  staggered  back, 
twilight  began  to  shadow  the  city,  and  lights  to 
glow,  and  then  like  some  desperate,  hunted  animal, 
so  she  now  peeped  out  to  watch  the  homeward-hur- 
rying throng.  Not  one  glanced  at  her,  unless  it 
was  to  suppose  she  was  some  starving  street  walker 
and  not  look  again.  Life  in  the  great  city  had  left 
her  out  in  the  cold  she  knew,  there  was  no  hope  now 
except  to  pawn  her  one  best  dress,  no  food  or  shelter 
she  would  accept  after  the  money  from  that  was 
gone,  and  now  as  she  watched  for  one  possible  — 
and  last  —  glimpse  of  Mark's  face,  she  resolved  after 


446  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

that  to  go  back  to  M  Street,  give  the  dress  to  Agnes, 
confide  her  one  secret  to  her,  ask  her  to  take  a  cer- 
tain sacred  envelope  to  Mark's  office  next  day  and 
then  —  steal  out  that  night  and  let  the  deathly  chill 
do  its  work. 

All  this  she  planned,  this  courageous,  self-reliant, 
but  now  hopeless  waif,  and  with  a  grim  resolve  to 
carry  it  out. 

But  even  a  sight  of  Mark's  face  was  denied  her, 
for  though  he  hurried  away  from  the  building  well- 
muffled,  while  she  watched,  the  lights  were  frost/- 
dimmed  and  she  saw  him  not.  She  waited  hope- 
less, despairing,  until  no  more  men  emerged  from 
Forty-two,  then  thoroughly  chilled,  she  staggered 
back  to  M  Street. 

And  that  night  she  could  eat  no  food,  for  now  a 
strange  nausea  and  headache  assailed  her,  and  when 
morning  came  she  was  in  a  raging  fever. 

Starvation,  exposure,  and  chilled  blood  had  done 
their  fell  work! 

All  that  day  she  tossed  and  turned  in  bed,  in 
her  little  back  room  with  a  hard  cough  and  alternate 
chills  and  fever  and  always  headache  to  add  pain. 
Mrs.  Cassidy  brought  toast  and  tea  but  Myr- 
tle could  not  eat  a  morsel.  Agnes  bathed  her 
head  when  the  hot  spells  were  on  and  Tim  freshened 
the  fire  in  her  tiny  stove  when  the  chill  returned. 


THE    LAST    OP    ASKING  447 

By  night  she  was  worse,  the  next  morning  more  so, 
and  when  evening  came  again  she  began  to  act 
and  talk  strangely.  To  speak  to  birds  in  cooing 
tones,  call  them  Brown  Wing,  Fan-Tail  and  Whitey 
and  caw  and  peep  like  a  sea  gull  and  coax  these 
birds  to  come  and  eat. 

"  Howly  Mither,  but  she's  goin'  crazy,  so  she  is," 
asserted  Mrs.  Cassidy  in  horror,  and  crossing  her- 
self. "  It's  the  divil  stalin'  her  soul,  God  save  her." 

"  She's  talkin'  to  birds  an'  pipin'  like  'em,"  whis- 
pered Agnes,  "  an'  they  do  be  crows.  I've  heard 
'em  in  the  counthry." 

"  We  must  sind  fer  a  doctor,"  asserted  Mary  Ann, 
shaking  her  head,  "  she's  that  sick  she  may  die. 
You  go,  Agnes,  an'  quick  too." 

It  was  two  hours  that  seemed  days  to  those  anxious 
watchers,  before  that  pompous  person  was  escorted 
up  to  Myrtle's  stuffy,  stifling,  little  room  by  Agnes. 
He  sniffed,  grunted  as  if  he'd  entered  some  noise- 
some  cell,  said  "  Open  a  window,"  in  sharp  com- 
mand, and  then  turned  to  the  sick  girl.  He  thrust 
a  clinic  thermometer  into  her  mouth,  felt  her  pulse, 
adjusted  a  stethsocope  to  her  lungs,  listened,  pulled 
the  thermometer  out,  looked  at  its  tell-tale  record  and 
turned  to  Mrs.  Cassidy. 

"  She's  got  pneumonia,"  he  asserted  bluntly,  "  and 
double  at  that.  Let  her  have  more  air  —  this  room 


448  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

would  choke  a  hog  —  and  keep  her  body  warm." 
Then  he  glanced  into  Myrtle's  blankly  staring  eyes. 
"  Out  of  her  head  too,  I  see,"  he  added,  "  and  not 
much  show  for  her." 

And  now  without  one  thought  of  how  this  plain, 
unfeeling  diagnosis  would  affect  all  present,  he 
whipped  out  a  pad,  pencilled  a  scrawling  prescrip- 
tion and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Cassidy. 

"  Once  in  two  hours,  madam,"  he  said,  and  for 
the  first  time  using  a  courteous  tone  "  you  have  a 
very  sick  girl  and  slim  chance  for  her.  My  call 
is  three  dollars,  if  you  please." 

He  got  his  money  and  with  a  curt  "  Thank  you  " 
and  not  another  word  departed. 

These  were  wretchedly  poor  people,  as  he  saw  on 
the  instant,  and  not  worth  polite  phrases. 

Agnes  volunteered  to  go  for  the  medicine  —  it 
took  about  all  except  the  reserved  rent  money  — 
and  it  was  not  until  almost  morning  that  any  one 
of  those  poor  but  loyal  friends  left  Myrtle's  bed- 
side, And  it  was  a  night  that  taxed  their  hearts 
and  Mrs.  Cassidy's  eerie  superstition  as  well,  for 
all  through  it  poor  Myrtle  was  back  on  Folly  Island. 
Now  building  her  playhouse  over  again,  saying  how 
this  stone  was  too  small,  or  that  too  big,  or  wrong 
in  shape ;  again  working  among  her  flowers,  address- 
ing them  by  tender  names  or  calling  to  the  gulls 


THE    LAST    OF    ASKING  449 

once  more.  Then  she  seemed  to  be  sure  some  one 
was  following  her,  Mark's  name  was  used  as  the 
one  person  she  hoped  to  find  and  again  she  would 
moan,  "  O  dear  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  in  a  way  that 
made  Mrs.  Cassidy  shiver. 

By  morning  the  medicine  began  to  reach  her  fever- 
burned  brain,  she  fell  asleep  and  all  but  Agnes  tip- 
toed out  of  the  room.  It  was  not  for  long,  the  in- 
cessant cough  soon  woke  her,  but  the  delirium  had 
passed. 

"  Where  am  I  and  how  did  I  come  here  ?  "  she 
whispered  scarce  recognizing  Agnes  yet,  "  I  guess 
I've  had  an  awful  dream." 

"  Shure  ye  have,  darlin',"  returned  Agnes  ten- 
derly, "ye've  bin  talkin'  to  crows,  liftin'  stones,  an' 
scart  o'  somebody  all  night.  Ye'll  be  better  now, 
me  darlin',"  she  added  hopefully,  "  an'  it's  toime 
fer  yer  midicin."  Then  this  loyal  little  Irish  lass 
—  God  bless  her  —  measured  a  spoonful,  gave  it  to 
Myrtle,  lifted  her  head  and  shook  out  the  one  pillow, 
and  smoothed  and  adjusted  the  bed-clothes. 

Little  things,  but  how  they  comfort  us  when  our 
poor  bodies  are  pain-racked! 

The  rest  came  in  later,  one  by  one,  to  say  "  Good 
mornin',"  but  about  all  Myrtle  could  do  was  smile 
an  answer,  and  all  that  day  she  either  dozed  fitfully 
between  spasms  of  coughing  or  watched  Agnes  with 


450  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

pitiful,  hopeless  eyes.  They  seemed  larger  than 
ever  now  and  twice  as  appealing  when  turned  to 
one  or  another  of  those  four  friends  (though  oftenest 
to  Agnes)  and  a  cloud  of  gloom  settled  over  that 
household.  The  weather  moderated  a  good  deal, 
however  (which  they  all  felt  thankful  for),  Tim 
spent  most  of  the  day  following  the  railroad  tracks 
far  out  of  the  city  to  pick  up  even  nut-size  bits 
of  coal,  Mary  Ann  visited  the  bakery  to  buy  another 
basket  of  three-day-old  eatables,  but  Agnes  never 
left  the  sick-room. 

By  night  Myrtle  seemed  to  grow  weaker,  she  could 
no  longer  lift  her  head  to  take  medicine  and  mo- 
mentary delirium  returned. 

"  Shure  her  eyes  is  follerin'  me  all  over  the  house," 
moaned  Mrs.  Cassidy  to  Mary  Ann  in  the  kitchen, 
"  an'  the  poor  crayther  has  got  to  die.  I  think  we'd 
better  sind  for  the  praste." 

"  I'll  go  fer  him  now,"  responded  Mary  Ann, 
swallowing  a  sob  and  she  hurried  away  on  that  sad 
errand.  He  came  sooner  than  the  doctor  did,  for 
Catholicism  is  never  a  laggard  when  death  calls. 
It  was  also  a  pitiful,  tearful  group,  who  now  knelt 
around  Myrtle's  bed  while  Father  Mooney  began 
to  intone  the  solemn  service  for  the  dying  in  Latin 
on  his  knees  with  hands  upraised  in  supplication. 
Then  he  arose,  drew  forth  a  vial  of  holy  water, 


THE   LAST    OP   ASKING  451 

sprinkled  a  few  drops  upon  Myrtle's  face,  first 
kissed,  then  laid  a  small  black  cross  on  her  breast 
and  knelt  again  in  prayer. 

And  now  his  voice  was  scarce  audible  above  the 
sobs. 

What  it  all  meant  beyond  the  fact  that  she  was 
dying  Myrtle  knew  not,  only  that  having  been  to 
church  this  kind  priest  meant  to  console  her 
now.  Nothing  could  bring  consolation,  however, 
save  one  face  and  that  was  denied  her.  Yet  to 
see  that  now  bending  over  her  would  be  to  enter 
her  final  sleep  without  fear  or  regret.  She  had 
kept  her  faith,  she  felt,  had  tried  to  do  the  best 
she  could  and  earn  her  honest  way  as  he  had  said 
she  should.  But  it  was  all  over  now  and  the  end 
near. 

And  then  glancing  from  one  to  another  of  the 
faces  —  still  tearful  —  grouped  about  her,  back  to 
Folly  Island  and  her  playhouse  she  flew  in  thought. 
Once  more  she  was  beside  her  little  garden  and  the 
flowers,  heard  the  low  monotone  of  the  sobbing 
ocean,  and  saw  Mark  smiling  at  her. 

Then  she  closed  her  eyes. 

When  she  opened  them  again  Agnes  only  was 
near  and  seated  on  the  bed. 

And  now  once  more  duty  yet  hers  to  do  recurred 
to  Myrtle.  She  had  thought  of  it  many  times  these 


452  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

last,  half-starved,  desperate  days,  and  made  ready 
as  well. 

"  There's  something  in  my  trunk,  Agnes  dear," 
she  whispered  faintly,  "  an  envelope  down  in  one 
corner.  Please  get  it  for  me  ?  " 

Agnes  did  so  hurriedly,  saw  it  was  addressed, 
"  Mark  Mason,  Forty-Two  Bank  Street,  or  at  The 
Elms  Hotel,"  and  handed  it  to  Myrtle.  She  took 
it,  kissed  it  once,  twice,  thrice,  and  returned  it  to 
Agnes. 

"  There's  money  in  it,"  she  again  whispered,  "  it 
belongs  to  that  man.  He  —  he  was  my  friend  once. 
Now  when  I  —  I  am  gone,  promise  me  you  will 
give  it  to  him." 

"  An'  shure  I  will,  on  me  sowl,  so  help  me  God," 
Agnes  answered  crossing  herself,  and  choking  back 
a  sob. 

Then  a  look  of  supreme,  glorified  peace  and  con- 
tent came  over  the  sick  one's  face.  Her  last  will 
and  testament  was  made  and  signed,  her  duty  done, 
her  debt  paid. 

And  now  she  closed  her  eyes  and  dozed  off,  ready 
for  her  final  dreamless  sleep. 

But  a  flash  of  new  light,  an  inspiration  beyond 
her  years  had  come  to  Agnes,  and  she  stole  out  of 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE    MILLS    OF    GOD 

AMONG  all  the  various  allurements  occupying  the 
minds  of  men  there  is  not  one  so  universal,  so  ab- 
sorbing and  likewise  pernicious,  as  the  gambling  in- 
stinct, the  get-something-for-nothing  desire.  It 
seems  to  be  an  inherent  taint,  and  so  general  is  it 
that  even  those  who  legislate  against  that  evil  or 
others  loudest  in  condemnation  of  it,  will  now  and 
then  buy  a  lottery  ticket,  bet  a  few  sly  dollars  on 
some  ball-game,  or  do  a  little  smuggling  when  the 
chance  comes. 

Parsons  or  "  Artie,"  that  crowing  rooster  of  "  The 
Emporium's  "  hosiery  department  of  course  had  the 
desire,  in  fact  to  gamble  was  one  of  his  dominating 
impulses,  only  perforce  it  had  to  be  for  small  stakes 
or  a  dollar  or  two  bet  on  some  ball-game.  He 
wagered  a  good  deal  with  his  mouth,  however,  or 
whenever  any  sporting  event  was  mentioned  and 
he  had  a  listener,  or  if  none  was  on,  then  the  stock 
market  served  as  an  excuse  to  brag.  The  fact  was 

453 


454  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

that  lie  had  never  bought  or  sold  a  share  of  stock  for 
obvious  reasons. 

But  one  evening,  soon  after  Myrtle  had  been 
practically  forced  out  of  "  The  Emporium  "  by  him, 
he  met  a  Mr.  Moore,  proprietor  of  a  well  known 
bucket-shop  in  Athens,  at  a  sporting  resort,  and  as 
usual  indulged  in  some  vainglorious  boasting. 

Moore,  a  shrewd  gambler  of  his  kind,  soon  meas- 
ured Parsons'  scope  and  as  he  would  say  "  laid  for 
him."  It  was  an  easy  matter.  A  few  nods  and 
smiles  of  approval  of  Parsons'  assertions,  and  their 
outcome,  a  little  judicious  flattery  and  simulated  ad- 
miration and  the  victim  was  hooked.  Then  Moore 
began  an  exhaustive  dissertation  on  an  especially 
good  thing  he  knew  about,  the  D.  &  S.  railroad  stock, 
how  low  it  was  then  selling  (about  forty-two),  how 
sure  it  was  to  advance,  and  how  he  had  inside  knowl- 
edge of  a  bull  pool  who  were  soon  to  put  it  up 
twenty  or  thirty  points.  He  also  claimed  he  was 
heavily  long  of  it  as  well,  and  anxious  to  have  others 
obtain  a  few  slices  of  this  most  excellent  market 
pie.  It  was  all  the  same  old  hackneyed  line  of  argu- 
ment perpetually  used  by  stock  gamblers  to  shear 
lambs,  only  Moore  didn't  spread  it  broadcast  in  the 
press  in  the  usual  manner,  and  Parsons  was  tempted. 

"  You.  can't  lose  money  on  D.  &  S.,"  .Moore  as- 
serted, in  conclusion,  "  if  you  bny  small  lots  at  first, 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  455 

ten  or  twenty  shares,  then  as  it  goes  up  and  reacts 
a  point  or  so  double  your  holdings.  Why,  it's  just 
like  finding  money  to  buy  D.  &  S." 

And  it  was  —  for  him. 

"  Come  around  to  my  office  to-morrow,  Mr.  Par- 
sons, Room  Ten,  Granite  Building,"  he  concluded, 
"  and  let  me  put  you  onto  a  good  thing." 

"  I  may  drop  in  when  I  leave  my  office  for  lunch," 
returned  Parsons,  as  if  he  had  vast  business  mat- 
ters on  his  hands,  "  and  possibly  I  might  take  a 
flyer  in  D.  &  S.  for  luck." 

And  he  did  call  the  next  day  noon  hour  to  find 
D.  &  S.  had  made  almost  a  two  points'  advance  that 
morning. 

"  You  see  I  was  right,"  Moore  asserted,  greeting 
him  effusively,  "  D.  &  S.  is  going  to  climb  and  had 
you  come  in  this  morning  see  how  much  you  might 
have  been  ahead  on  it." 

And  Parsons  who  had  about  thirty  dollars  with 
him  —  half  of  what  he  owed  his  tailor  —  felt  that 
now  was  the  accepted  time  in  D.  &  S.  stock. 

"  You  may  buy  me  ten  shares  as  a  starter,"  he 
directed,  "  I  am  going  to  follow  your  advice  and 
go  careful.  If  it  advances  of  course  I  shall  go  in 
heavier."  He  was  soon  supplied,  the  two  points' 
margin,  or  twenty  dollars,  whisked  into  Moore's  till 
as  if  so  much  waste  paper,  and  Parsons  given  a  slip 


456  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

showing  that  he  had  bought  ten  shares  D.  &  S.  stock 
at  forty-three  and  three-quarters,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment onward  all  that  occupied  his  mind  was  the 
price  of  D.  &  S. 

He  watched  the  varying  quotations  chalked  on 
a  blackboard  by  an  active  boy  now  for  nearly  all 
his  lunch  hour.  Saw  it  advance  a  half-point,  back 
another,  up  again,  and  when  he  left  it  stood  at  forty- 
four  and  a  quarter,  a  half-point  above  his  purchase 
price.  Then  he  most  reluctantly  left  room  ten, 
bought  and  munched  a  sandwich  on  his  way  to  "  his 
office  "  and  thought  only  of  D.  &  S.  When  closing 
came  he  grabbed  an  evening  paper  and  almost  shouted 
when  he  saw  that  stock  had  closed  at  forty-five ! 

And  that  evening  he  assured  every  person  he  knew 
—  and  met  —  and  a  few  he  never  had  seen  before, 
that  he  had  made  over  two  hundred  dollars  in  the 
market  that  day  on  D.  &  S. ! 

Next  morning,  and  as  usual  with  all  embryo  stock 
gamblers,  he  read  every  line  of  financial  news  and 
gossip  in  three  papers  and  accepted  each  word  favor- 
able to  an  advance  in  stocks,  as  gospel  truth.  More 
than  that,  so  sure  was  he  now  that  D.  &  S.  was 
bound  to  go  up,  his  sole  thought  was  of  how  he  could 
raise  money  to  buy  more.  To  remain  at  his  post  in 
The  Emporium  that  forenoon  also  when  he  might  be 
or  ought  to  be  in  the  broker's  office  watching  D.  &  S. 


THE.   MILLS    OF    GOD  457 

advance  was  durance  vile  to  him,  and  his  impe- 
cunious condition  worse  than  galling.  Here  and 
now  was  a  great  and  glorious  chance  to  make  money 
if  only  he  had  capital  to  work  with!  But  how  to 
get  it? 

There  wasn't  a  person  he  could  borrow  more  than 
a  dollar  or  two  from,  his  sole  possession  of  value 
was  a  small  diamond  ring  worth  perhaps  seventy- 
five  dollars  and  now  in  this  extremity  he  resolved  to 
pawn  that.  When  noon  came  he  almost  ran  out  of 
The  Emporium,  hurried  to  the  nearest  three-ball 
sign  and  then  on  to  Moore's  office  with  forty  dol- 
lars obtained  on  his  ring. 

And  here  he  was  made  nearly  insane  from  specu- 
lative greed  for  D.  &  S.  had  shot  up  three  points 
more  since  morning,  back  again  to  forty-six  and  was 
now  advancing  again ! 

"  I  might  have  closed  you  out  at  forty-eight  and 
made  you  fifty  dollars,"  Moore  assured  him  smil- 
ingly, "  but  I  didn't  dare.  D.  &  S.  is  booming  as 
I  told  you  it  would  and  may  go  up  ten  points  more 
before  the  close.  What  you  want  to  do  is  buy,  buy, 
and  soon  too !  " 

There  wasn't  any  question  about  that  in  Parsons' 
mind  now  and  as  soon  as  he  could  count  out  forty 
dollars  he  was  the  (ostensible)  owner  of  twenty 
shares  more.  He  also  went  without  his  dinner  again 


458  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

in  feverish  watchfulness  of  the  quotation  now 
fluctuating  between  forty-six  and  forty-seven,  and  not 
until  he  barely  had  time  to  reach  The  Emporium  by 
one  o'clock  when  he  must  and  register,  could  he  tear 
himself  away  from  this  thrilling  occupation.  And 
so  much  a  slave  did  he  now  feel  he  almost  cursed 
that  hive  of  industry,  his  employers  and  himself ! 

And  that  night  as  if  the  fickle  goddess  of  chance 
meant  to  first  madden  him  with  joy  and  then  de- 
stroy him ,  D.  &  S.  closed  at  forty-eight,  and  a  quar- 
ter, showing  him  a  total  profit  of  seventy  dollars 
—  on  paper ! 

And  that  evening  also,  Parsons  not  only  enlarged 
his  boastful  assertions  to  sums  varying  from  three 
hundred  to  a  thousand  dollars,  but  spent  almost 
every  cent  he  had  left  in  treating  and  became 
hilariously  intoxicated  besides! 

He  wasn't  of  much  benefit  to  the  hosiery  depart- 
ment the  next  forenoon,  either,  for  most  of  his  time 
was  used  in  perusing  the  papers,  and  he  read  the  pre- 
vious day's  opening,  highest,  lowest,  and  closing  price 
of  D.  &  S.  in  all  of  them  at  least  a  dozen  times. 

A  drop  came  in  his  roseate  hopes  of  sudden  wealth, 
however,  when  he  again  entered  Moore's  office  at 
twelve-five  exactly,  and  saw  D.  &  S.  was  then  quoted 
at  forty-four,  a  fall  of  nearly  five  points  since  the 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  459 

opening!  And  he  almost  gasped  the  query, 
"Why?" 

"  Oh,  merely  a  little  realizing  by  timid  longs," 
Moore  assured  him,  suavely,  "  but  you  want  to  show 
sand  now  and  not  let  go.  I  may  have  to  call  for 
more  margin,  Mr.  Parsons,"  he  added  nonchalantly, 
"  but  don't  be  scared  on  that  account.  D.  &  S.  is 
sure  to  go  up  again." 

And  then  this  tenderfoot  speculator  began  to 
quake,  for  how  was  he  to  raise  more  money?  He 
passed  a  most  miserable  hour  this  noontime  also  in 
alternate  hopes  and  fears  watching  D.  &  S.  fluctua- 
tions and  the  fears  predominated  for  that  "  Dead 
sure  "  stock,  as  Moore  had  once  called  it,  kept  falling 
by  eighths  and  quarters.  It  was,  when  the  hour  of 
suspense  ended,  down  to  within  a  half-point  of  his 
margin  line  and  Parsons  returned  dinnerless  to 
"  The  Emporium  "  and  feeling  woe-begone  and  faint 
as  well,  for  his  sudden  riches  were  vanishing.  A 
worse  blow  came  by  two  p.  m.  in  a  message  from 
Moore  calling  for  forty  dollars  additional  margin 
"  by  ten  o'clock  next  morning,  sure !  " 

And  then  Parsons  had  cold  chills,  for  how  could 
he  obtain  it? 

As  it  chanced,  also,  so  just  is  Fate  sometimes,  that 
very  afternoon,  (a  bitter  cold  one  as  well)  was  the 


460  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

one  when  poor  Myrtle  made  her  last  hopeless  effort 
to  find  employment.  Unknown  to  her  the  mills  of 
God  were  grinding  out  justice  and  her  persecutor 
was  caught  in  the  wheels! 

But  obtain  more  money  he  must  or  lose  all  he 
had  put  into  this  gambling  hopper  and  Parsons  was 
driven  to  his  wits'  end.  They  landed  him,  as  they 
always  will  such  as  he,  at  thievery,  and  late  that 
afternoon  he  sneaked  into  "  The  Emporium  "  store 
room,  watched  his  chance,  hid  three  rolls  of  valuable 
lace  under  his  vest  and  that  night  sold  it  to  a  re- 
ceiver of  such. 

He  had  fallen  to  the  level  of  an  ordinary  thief 
now,  but  he  had  obtained  the  needful  margin. 

For  the  next  week  he  lived  a  year  of  suspense  and 
worriment,  haunting  Moore's  office  each  noon,  go- 
ing dinnerless  to  do  so,  and  sleepless  much  of  each 
night.  He  kept  on  boasting,  however,  alternating 
it  between  his  gains  and  losses  as  the  fancy  struck 
him.  He  didn't  do  much  more  treating  though,  for 
obvious  reasons,  and  that  week  to  crown  his  mis- 
fortunes his  landlady  trusteed  his  wages  at  "  The 
Emporium." 

"  It  mustn't  happen  again,"  the  head  manager 
assured  him  curtly,  "  or  you  lose  your  job.  We 
won't  have  process-servers  enter  this  establishment !  " 

And  then  as  a  climax  to  all,  D.  &  S.  took  another 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  461 

drop  of  two  points  and  a  call  for  more  margin  came. 
Also  another  sly  visit  to  the  stock  room  that  after- 
noon by  Parsons.  But  this  time  another  depart- 
ment manager  (who  hated  him  for  reasons  of  his 
own)  saw  him  secrete  four  more  rolls  of  lace  be- 
neath his  clothing  and  stuff  a  few  dozen  pairs  of  kid 
gloves  into  his  pockets. 

And  that  night  a  plain-clothes  officer  grasped  him 
by  the  arm  as  he  left  the  store. 

"  Wha  —  what  you  want  ?  "  gasped  the  astonished 
Parsons  quaking. 

"  Want  you,  or  the  bosses  do,"  the  officer  re- 
turned facetiously,  "  they're  goin'  to  promote  you  to 
another  job." 

And  then  the  valiant,  vainglorious  boaster,  Par- 
sons, the  hero  of  many  amours,  embryo  speculator 
and  contemptible  persecutor  of  an  honest  girl, 
cringed  and  whimpered  like  a  whipped  cur.  There 
was  no  help  for  him  now,  however,  back  to  the  of- 
fice of  his  employers  he  was  hustled  in  short  order, 
the  stolen  lace  and  gloves  taken  from  his  person,  and 
that  night  he  cursed  luck  and  everything  else  in  a 
cell.  Neither  did  he  do  any  more  boasting  either 
for  next  day  he  was  relegated  to  private  life  in  an 
institution  for  such  as  he,  and  hard  labor  for  two 
years. 

And  no  one  in  all  Athens  felt  to  pity  him. 


462  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

There  was  also  another  outcome  of  Fate  in  this 
drama  of  life  that  took  place  on  Folly  Island  which 
unpleasant  though  it  be,  must  be  mentioned. 

From  the  moment  Cap'n  Jud  fled  in  awful  ter- 
ror from  the  —  supposed  —  apparition  of  his  own 
daughter  he  never  again  returned  to  sanity.  He  had 
had  two  months  already  of  ghost-haunted  existence, 
had  seen  Myrtle's  spectral  appearance  scores  of  times 
at  the  fish-house,  along  the  wave-beaten  shores,  at 
the  bridge,  or  nights  about  the  house.  He  had 
grown  older  and  haggard  from  the  constant  dread 
of  this,  his  days  became  one  continued  fear,  nights 
more  so,  and  Folly  Island  an  accursed  spot.  Con- 
science, too,  or  its  counterpart,  supernatural  fear,  be- 
gan to  do  its  fell  work,  and  beyond  that  the  more 
pertinent  fear  of  what  action  Sandy  Bay  might 
take.  He  knew  now  how  all  there  felt  toward  him, 
how  they  believed  him  solely  responsible  for  his 
grandchild's  death,  and  any  night  might  make  him 
the  threatened  visitation  with  promised  coat  of  tar 
and  feathers.  So  afraid  had  he  become  that  he 
scarce  dare  visit  Dark  Harbor  again  for  needed  sup- 
plies or  to  dispose  of  his  fish  and  lobsters. 

And  then  came  this  last  and  worst  ghostly  ap- 
pearance —  his  own  daughter  emerging  from  the 
fish-house ! 

Go  there  he  must,  and  did  next  day  in  fear  and 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  463 

trembling;  fish  and  set  his  pots  also  he  must  from 
force  of  habit,  mainly;  but  now  the  sea's  moaning 
seemed  a  human  voice,  the  wind's  whistle  a  woman's 
cry  of  anguish,  and  the  booming  of  monster  bil- 
lows, the  shout  of  demons.  All  nature  seemed  con- 
spiring to  pursue  and  avenge  Myrtle's  death,  and 
accepting  it  as  such,  Cap'n  Jud  grew  fearsome, 
watchful,  and  always  expecting  to  see  another  ghost. 
Neither  did  he  dare  venture  out  fishing  when  the 
sea  raged  but  sat  for  hours,  sometimes  all  day, 
watching  out  upon  it  in  silent  dread.  And  not  once 
again  did  he  go  to  Dark  Harbor. 

There  could  be  but  one  outcome  from  this  and 
in  two  weeks  Aunt  Perth  was  forced  to  visit  Sandy 
Bay. 

"  I  dunno  what's  come  over  the  Cap'n,"  she  com- 
plained to  Amos  Orton  who  greeted  her  kindly,  "  he 
hain't  ben  himself  since  —  since  that  awful  thing 
happened,  'n'  he  'pears  to  be  losin'  his  mind. 
Wuss'n  that,  thar  ain't  nothin'  left  to  eat  in  the 
house  'n'  he  don't  seem  to  care. 

"I  know  thar's  ben  feelin'  here  agin  him,"  she 
added,  plaintively,  "  but  'tain't  from  no  fault  o' 
mine." 

"  Wai,  I'm  sorry  fer  you,  Aunt  Perth,"  Amos  re- 
sponded, conscious  of  what  her  errand  here  meant, 
"  'n'  ye  kin  hev  anything  out  o'  the  store  ye  want. 


464  MYBTLE    BALDWIN 

We  don't  keer  overmuch  fer  Cap'n  Jud,  but  you 
won't  be  'lowed  to  go  hungry.  Jes'  tell  me  what 
ye  need." 

And  tell  she  did,  and  quite  a  long  list  as  well 
for  it  transpired  that  the  Folly  Island  cupboard  was 
minus  everythirfg  except  potatoes. 

"  But  why  don't  the  Cap'n  •  go  'n'  sell  some  fish 
'n'  lobs  to  Dark  Harbor,"  Amos  interrogated,  after 
jotting  down  her  lengthy  order  for  groceries.  "  He's 
fishin'  some,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"  Not  much,"  she  returned  mournfully,  "  jist 
mopes  'round  all  day  'n'  dassent  go  out  when  it 
blows  any.  He  acts  scart  all  the  time." 

"  Scart  o'  what  ? "  queried  Amos,  beginning  to 
weigh  out  a  dollar's  worth  of  sugar. 

"  Why,  spirits,"  Aunt  Perth  asserted  ominously, 
"  he  thinks  the  island's  ha'nted  now  by  — «by  the 
spirit  o'  poor  Myrtle  'n'  'bout  four  weeks  ago  he 
seen  her  mother's,  too,  'n'  didn't  leave  the  house  fer 
two  days  arter.  He  didn't  dare  go  to  bed,  either, 
jist  sot  up  all  night  'n'  kept  the  light  a  burnin'. 
It's  awful,  I  tell  ye,  to  hev  a  man  act  that  way,  'n' 
he  hears  somebody  walkin'  'round  the  house  or  up- 
stairs all  the  time.  I'll  go  crazy  myself  if  it  keeps 
on  much  longer." 

Many  more   of  the  uncanny  hallucinations  now 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  465 

pursuing  Cap'n  Jud  were  related  by  his  sister  while 
Amos  packed  up  her  grocery  order,  then  he  harnessed 
his  one  sedate  nag,  helped  her  into  the  wagon  and, 
leaving  the  store  to  care  for  itself,  drove  to  Folly 
Island  with  the  much-needed  supplies. 

"  I  guess  Cap'n  Jud's  perty  much  all  in,"  he  as- 
serted to  Barney  and  a  few  others  that  evening  in 
the  store,  "  'n'  fast  goin'  crazy,  too !  I  found  him 
squat  back  o'  the  stove  when  I  took  some  things 
down  to-day  'n'  he  never  spoke  to  me.  Just  sot 
'n'  watched  me  with  skeered  eyes  like  he  didn't 
knows  me,  'n'  it  made  me  feel  creepy,  too,  I  tell  ye ! 
He's  growed  thin  ez  well,  face  all  sunk  in  'n'  grin- 
nin'  like  a  skull.  'Pears  to  me  he's  reapin'  what 
he's  sowed,  'n'  perty  fast  too." 

"  Begorra,  that's  consolin',"  responded  Barney 
with  evident  satisfaction,  "  an'  't'll  be  a  blessin'  to 
the  ould  woman  whin  he  croaks.  Did  ye  tell  her 
we  heard  the  gal's  alive  ? " 

"  No,"  admitted  Amos  regretfully,  "  I  s'pose  I'd 
orter,  though,  'n'  save  her  worryin'.  She  ain't  to 
blame  fer  what  happened." 

"  Better  save  it  'till  the  Cap'n's  flewed  the  coop," 
asserted  another  of  the  group,  "  it'll  chirk  her  up 
some  then  'n'  sorter  reckonsile  her  to  bein'  a  pauper, 
ez  I  s'pose  we'll  hev  to  take  keer  on  her  arter  the 


466  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

Cap'n  goes,"  and  thus  and  so  was  the  outcome  of 
that  much-despised  man's  life  now  discussed  at  Sandy 
Bay. 

He  knew  it  not,  however,  or  aught  else  of  or- 
dinary human  feeling  or  interest.  Only  that  some 
strange  influence  was  stealing  strength  and  reason 
alike,  and  turn  where  he  would,  some  spectral  shape 
confronted  him.  The  winter  was  now  adding  its 
menace  of  icy  blasts  and  stormy  days  to  shut  him 
indoors,  the  island  white  with  snow,  and  each  night 
as  Aunt  Perth,  ever  faithful,  kept  the  fire  alight,  he 
sat  by  the  stove  and  shivered  while  mountainous 
waves  thundered  all  about  and  made  the  island 
tremble.  And  sitting  thus  one  night,  long  after 
Aunt  Perth  had  retired  and  like  a  cowardly  wretch, 
scared  at  every  noise,  he  heard,  faint  above  the  bil- 
lows' booming,  the  sound  of  footsteps  somewhere  in 
the  house.  First  overhead,  then  softly  creeping 
down  the  stairs  they  came.  Not  rapidly,  but  very 
slowly,  a  faint  creak  of  a  loose  board,  a  soft  pat  of 
bare  foot  stepping  on  it.  Soon  a  door  was  heard 
to  open  on  its  rusty  hinges  slowly  and  cautiously, 
a  breath  of  cold  air  chilled  his  face,  and  once  again 
those  weird,  mystic  footsteps  began,  this  time  in 
his  own  room  close  by,  and  then  in  the  kitchen. 
They  were  all  about  the  house  now,  creaking,  creep- 
ing, slow  and  cautious,  faint  yet  distinct  above  the 


THE    MILLS    OF    GOD  467 

rising  and  falling  boom  and  roar  outside.  And  then 
another  eerie  sound  was  added,  the  light  persistent 
tap,  tap,  tapping  of  a  death  watch  in  the  wainscot- 
ing back  of  the  stove!  The  lamp  was  now  burn- 
ing low,  the  fire  as  well,  and  the  room  growing  cold. 

And  just  then  while  Cap'n  Jud  felt  an  icy  chill 
creeping  over  him,  there  in  the  window  he  faced 
he  seemed  to  see  Myrtle!  Her  face  was  ghastly 
white,  eyes  widely  staring,  hair  wet  and  clinging 
about  it.  For  one  long,  horrible  moment  she  stared 
at  him  then  slowly,  very  slowly,  that  ghostly,  grew- 
some,  blood-curdling  spectre,  seemed  to  enter  the 
closed  window !  Nearer,  nearer,  it  came  to  the  hor- 
ror-stricken, cowering  brute,  unable  to  move,  scarce 
able  to  breathe.  Now  ten  feet  away,  now  five,  now 
close  by;  until  the  pallid  face  and  glassy  eyes  were 
bending  over  him  and  two  icy  hands  clasping  his 
throat. 

And  now  from  without  came  the  scream  and 
shriek  of  a  thousand  demons  filling  the  night  and 
darkness  with  menacing  sound.  They  moaned  and 
groaned  from  far  down  the  island!  They  bellowed 
and  boomed  as  they  drew  nearer!  They  crashed 
and  crackled  like  gun-shots  close  by  and  amid  all 
this  medley  of  threatening  voices  the  fainter  click, 
click,  as  of  bones  striking  together.  Now  and  then 
came  a  thunderous,  crashing  blow,  making  the  dwell- 


468  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

ing  tremble;  while  back  and  forth  along  the  spray 
and  spume  washed  rock-ribbed  shore  that  demoniac 
army  now  advanced;  now  retreated. 

The  room  grew  chillier,  the  light  dimmer,  and 
barely  breathing  now  and  unable  to  move,  Cap'n 
Jud  still  cowed  and  cowered  beneath  that  horrible 
dead  face  and  glassy  eyes  close  to  his,  and  the  two 
clammy  hands  about  his  throat. 

And  then  horror-stifled  and  horror-stricken  as  he 
was,  darkness  came  and  death  entered  there. 


CHAPTEK  XXXIX 

A  VOICE  FROM  THE  DARKNESS 

MARK  in  slippers  and  smoking  jacket  was  enjoy- 
ing his  favorite  cigar  in  his  room  at  "  The  Elms  " 
that  night  when  the  housemaid  knocked  on  the  door. 

'"  Thar's  a  gurl  below,  sir,"  she  said,  her  head  ap- 
pearing in  response  to  his  "  Come  in,"  "  an'  she 
wants  to  see  ye  sir,  an'  quick,  she  says." 

"  Show  her  up,  Bridgey,"  he  responded,  wonder- 
ing who  it  could  be  and  in  a  moment  Agnes  ap- 
peared. 

"  I  hev  a  missage  fer  ye  —  in  this  invelope,  sor, 
wid  money " —  she  gasped  for  she  had  run  over 
a  mile,  "  it's  from  a  dyin'  girl,  sor, —  an'  will  ye 
plase  come  to  her  quick,  sor  —  for  the  love  o'  God, 
sor!" 

How  Mark  sprang  up  with  a  "  Good  God !  "  and 
instantaneous  thought  of  who  it  was;  how  that 
Barker  House  envelope  confirmed  it,  how  he  grabbed 
coat  and  hat  —  forgetting  his  slippered  feet  —  and 
grasping  the  astonished  messenger's  arm,  almost 

469 


470  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

dragged  her  down  stairs,  needs  no  description.  He 
still  retained  hold  of  her  while  they  raced  to  a 
near-by  cab  stand  and  then  Mark  halted. 

"  I  want  a  carriage  quick/'  he  shouted  to  a  driver. 
"  Where  is  she  ? "  he  added,  turning  to  Agnes. 
"  Twinty-siven  M  Strate "  came  from  her  with  a 
snap,  and  then  Mark  faced  the  cabby  again.  "  Take 
us  there  quick  as  God'll  let  you/'  he  commanded, 
"  run  your  horses  where  you  can,  it's  ten  dollars 
if  you  do,"  and  he  almost  threw  Agnes  into  the 
cab. 

And  now  while  they  swayed,  bumped,  and  rat- 
tled along  the  stony,  frozen  streets, —  a  trip  that 
seemed  to  tear  his  heart  asunder  lest  he  be  too  late 
—  Agnes  blurted  out  bits  of  Myrtle's  recent  his- 
tory, and  present  condition  in  an  incoherent  jumble. 

"  She  didn't  sind  me,  sor,"  she  said  finally,  "  jist 
towld  me  to  take  the  money  to  ye  whin  she  was  dead. 
But  I'm  no  fool,  sor,  I  knew  her  heart  was  stharvin' 
an'  I  ran  all  the  way." 

And  then  Mark  felt  like  clasping  and  kissing 
that  brave  quick-witted,  little  Irish  lass! 

But  another  cab  had  reached  M  Street  soon  after 
Agnes  left  it,  and  a  handsomely  gowned  young 
woman  wearing  ermine  furs,  knocked  at  Mrs. 
Cassidy's  door. 

"  I'm  a  friend  of  Myrtle  —  Miss  Stone,  I  mean," 


BB 


"I  hev  a  missag-e  fer  ye  —  in  this  invelope,  sor."  —  Page  469. 


A  VOICE  FROM  THE  DARKNESS       471 

she  asserted  to  that  surprised  person,  "  and  I  called 
to  see  her." 

"  She's  awful  sick,  dyin'  soon,  God  rist  her  soul," 
came  the  pathetic  answer,  "  but  ye  kin  see  her, 
come  in." 

There  were  tears  in  Cindy's  eyes  when  she  knelt 
beside  Myrtle's  bed  and  kissed  her  feverish  lips,  but 
a  smile  of  gratitude  and  hope  followed  on  the  sick 
one's  face. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Cindy,"  she  whispered, 
and  then  she  reached  for  Cindy's  hand,  stroked,  and 
finally  pressed  it  to  her  lips,  for  all  memory  of  the 
chasm  between  them  had  left  her  now.  A  long  in- 
terval of  many  fond  looks  and  few  whispered  words 
ensued,  then  a  knock,  so  loud  that  it  reached  the 
sick-room,  and  Mary  Ann  —  knowing  whom  it  must 
mean  —  beckoned  Cindy  to  follow  her  out  of  it. 

"  We  have  sint  fer  some  man  she  knows,"  she 
whispered  to  her,  "  an'  she  shud  see  him  alone.  You 
onderstand." 

"  I  do,"  nodded  Cindy,  also  knowing  who  it  was, 
and  both  stepped  into  another  room  just  as  Agnes, 
followed  by  Mark  ascended  the  stairs,  pointed  to 
Myrtle's  room  and  joining  them,  closed  the  door 
and  began  to  sob. 

And  now  came  the  one  most  sacred,  crucial  mo- 
ment in  Mark's  life! 


472  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

One  instant  only  he  paused  to  see  the  look  of 
utter  surprise  and  ineffable  joy  illumine  Myrtle's 
face,  the  next  he  was  kneeling  beside  her  and  both 
head  and  pillow  were  clasped  in  his  arms.  And 
while  he  kissed  her  face  and  lips  as  only  a  strong 
man  can  when  deep  love  utters  heart-throbs  before 
death  ends  them,  warm  tears  christened  this  first, 
and  may  be  last,  love  clasp ! 

"  My  God,  my  darling !  "  came  from  him  now  as 
he  lowered  head  and  pillow,  smoothing  that  as  a 
tender  mother  would,  "  Oh,  why  didn't  you  come 
to  me  long  ago,  oh,  God,  why  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Because  I  saw  you  one  night  and  you  —  you 
looked  at  me  —  cold,"  she  faltered,  "I  —  I  thought 
you  —  didn't  care  and  you  had  some  one  with  you." 

"  But  I  never  saw  you,"  he  almost  shouted,  "  and 
that  was  —  oh,  my  darling,  we  —  I  have  been  hunt- 
ing everywhere  for  you  for  months !  " 

An  incoherent  answer  but  excusable. 

And  then  the  wretched,  stifling  little  room,  the 
house  and  M  Street  poverty  with  this  sick  girl  lack- 
ing all  medical  care,  perhaps,  recurred  to  this  man 
of  quick  thought  in  an  instant !  There  was  no  time 
to  waste  now.  Death  was  near.  To  act  at  once  was 
imperative  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  going  to  the  door,  "  some  one 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE    DABKNESS  4Y3 

come  quick,  please,"  and  Agnes  followed  by  her  sis- 
ter and  Cindy  appeared. 

"  This  girl  must  be  taken  to  a  hospital  now,"  he 
ordered,  looking  at  Cindy,  "  it's  the  only  hope  I 
believe.  Will  one  of  you  go  in  my  carriage  to  Mercy 
Hospital  —  I  know  Dr.  Hooker  —  tell  him  I  sent 
you  and  to  come  at  once  with  you.  Also  send  an 
ambulance  with  plenty  of  blankets  and  two  foot- 
stoves  and  quick,  too,  for  God's  sake !  " 

"  1*11  go,"  responded  Cindy,  "  I'm  her  friend  and 
I'll  do  anything!" 

"  Please,  sor,  may  I  go  too  ?  "  put  in  Agnes.  "  I 
can  do  something.  Maybe  I  kin  hurry  the  doctor 
a  bit."  And  then  Mark  led  the  way  to  his  waiting 
carriage. 

"  Take  these  ladies  to  Mercy  Hospital,"  he  now 
commanded  the  driver,  "  bring  them  and  a  doctor 
back,  and  run  your  horses  all  you  dare  again.  It's 
another  ten  for  you."  Then  he  returned  to  the  sick 
room. 

What  tender  words  of  love,  encouragement,  and 
fond  reproach  he  now  whispered  to  Myrtle  shall 
never  be  quoted,  for  they  are  too  sacred  for  these 
pages.  A  life  history,  aye,  a  two-life  one  was  in- 
cluded in  them,  and  a  soul-union  as  well.  There 
were  kisses  on  Myrtle's  face,  meanwhile,  such  as  a 


474  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

mother  would  lavish  on  her  dying  babe,  her  hand 
never  left  his  retaining  clasp  once  during  that  hour's 
wait,  and  just  the  barest  outlines  of  her  desperate 
flight  and  fight  with  a  merciless  world  —  her  own 
six  months  of  heart-starvation  also  —  were  whis- 
pered by  her. 

Only  one  secret  was  retained  by  Mark  —  her 
mother's  existence  —  and  that  was  to  be  used  as  a 
last  resort  and  incentive  in  the  battle  for  life  he 
now  knew  must  be  fought.  And  it  was  a  slim  one, 
as  Dr.  Hooker  asserted  by  one  ominous  shake  of 
his  head  after  he  arrived  and  examined  Myrtle. 

"  The  hospital's  her  only  chance,  my  boy,"  he 
declared  to  Mark  outside  the  sick  room,  "  and  you 
were  wise  to  send  for  an  ambulance.  She'll  die 
anyhow  in  that  stifling  cell  and  we  may  pull  her 
through.  I  see  your  heart's  in  it,"  he  added  with  a 
slight  smile  of  pity,  "  and  I'll  do  my  best." 

"  Yes  and  every  dollar  I'm  worth  as  well,"  re- 
joined Mark  soberly,  "  so  spare  no  expense.  It's  a 
thousand-dollar  fee  for  you  if  you  save  her." 

And  now  came  the  removal  —  an  act  of  daring 
most  doctors  will  say  meant  death  anyhow  —  yet  it 
was  undertaken.  A  few  blankets  and  two  patent 
warmers  came  with  the  ambulance,  which  with 
closed  doors  was  now  fairly  warm.  All  the  Cassidy 
outfit  of  bed-quilts  was  pressed  into  service,  and  then 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE   DARKNESS  475 

Myrtle,  wrapped  like  a  mummy  —  and  willing  to 
die  now,  so  happy  was  she  —  was  carried  in  Mark's 
strong  arms  down  two  flights  of  stairs  and  into  the 
ambulance,  Cindy  and  Agnes  climbing  in  also,  squat- 
ting on  the  floor,  and  Mark,  still  clasping  that  more 
than  precious  burden,  while  the  other  two,  devoted 
as  sisters,  held  blankets  around  the  sick  one  and  Dr. 
Hooker  followed  in  the  carriage.  And  now  as  the 
ambulance  moved  away  the  two  women  left  stood 
in  their  door  watching  it  with  teary  eyes. 

"  Shure  an'  ambulance  is  much  worse  than  a  hearse, 
so  it  be,  Mary  Ann,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cassidy,  "  wid 
no  glass  in  the  sides  to  show  the  cofiin  an'  no  plumes 
on  top  to  show  rispict  for  the  dead.  Ah,  wurra, 
wurra,  but  me  heart  is  near  breakin'  for  the  poor 
gurl." 

And  all  this  within  less  than  three  months  of  ac- 
quaintance ! 

But  hospital  rules  are  as  rigid  as  a  prison's,  not 
even  Mark  was  allowed  more  than  to  whisper  a  few 
tender,  encouraging  words  to  Myrtle,  after  bearing 
her  to  the  room  and  bed  assigned  her.  But  his  heart 
had  gathered  a  trifle  of  hope  in  the  meantime;  for 
she  had  stood  the  trip  well,  a  new  courage  lit  her 
appealing  eyes,  and  a  new  joy  illumined  her  face. 

"  I'm  going  to  live  now  for  —  for  you,"  she  whis- 


476  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

pered,  in  answer  to  them,  "  and  —  and  —  God  bless 
you,  sir !  " 

A  queer  reply  —  the  last  part  —  to  come  from  a 
girl  whom  he  had  just  assured  that  he  meant  to 
marry,  and  yet  its  unspoken  gratitude  made  him 
swallow  a  lump  in  his  throat ! 

Cindy,  Agnes,  and  the  bundle  of  extra  blankets 
were  now  crowded  into  his  carriage,  he  followed, 
ordering  caby  to  drive  again  to  M  Street,  and  after 
helping  his  two  companions  out  as  courteously  as  if 
they  were  fine  ladies,  he  drew  Agnes  aside. 

"  Little  girl,"  he  said  gently,  as  he  pulled  out  a 
pocket  book,  "  I  don't  even  know  your  name  yet  but 
the  devotion  you  have  showed  the  girl  I  love,  and 
what  you  have  done  to-night  has  won  you  a  warm 
friend.  Here  is  fifty  dollars  —  not  pay  for  it,  no 
money  can  be  —  but  to  give  you  and  your  family 
some  things  they  may  need." 

"  I  won't  take  it,  sor,  plase,  an  axin'  yer  pardin," 
she  answered  firmly.  "  It  ain't  fer  money  I  come 
to  you,  sor,  but  love  o'  the  poor  darlin',  me  frind," 
then  she  began  to  sob  again. 

"  I  know  it,"  asserted  Mark  as  firmly,  "  but  you 
can  hand  it  to  your  mother  anyhow  and  to-morrow 
come  to  my  office,  Forty-two  Bank  Street,  I  want  to 
talk  with  you."  Then  he  shook  hands  with  the  rest, 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE   DARKNESS  477 

thanked  them  each  in  turn,  Cindy  twice,  and  drove 
away. 

And  then  that  well-garbed  young  woman  whose 
social  standing  was  unknown  here  uttered  a  few 
heart-born  words  to  Agnes. 

"  A  girl  who  is  loved  by  such  a  man  as  that 
one,"  she  said,  "  has  won  all  life  holds  for  her,  and 
all  she  can  do  won't  pay  for  it."  Then  she  too 
shook  hands  with  these  poor  people  as  if  proud  to 
do  so,  kissed  Agnes  tenderly  and  departed  without 
disclosing  her  name. 

With  all  her  faults  and  follies,  it  must  be  asserted, 
there  are  few  like  her  among  her  sisterhood,  and 
perhaps  an  unhappy  home  and  drunken  father  should 
bear  the  blame  for  her  sins. 

But  Mark  had  not  even  thought  of  them  during 
this  desperate  episode  and  after  he  left  the  hospital 
his  first  act  was  to  wire  Mrs.  TJpson,  "  Have  found 
Myrtle,  she  is  very  sick,  come  at  once,"  and  then  he 
must  pace  his  room  and  smoke  continuously  for 
sleep  was  an  impossibility.  When  morning  dawned 
and  the  city  awoke  once  more  he  hastened  to  the 
hospital  and,  as  expected,  was  refused  admission  to 
Myrtle's  room. 

"  We  are  doing  all  possible,"  Dr.  Hooker  assured 
him,  "  and  shall.  She  is  out  of  her  mind  now,  a 
result  I  knew  must  follow  her  removal,  but  she  has 


478  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

two  trained  nurses,  the  best  of  care,  and  I  hope  to 
save  her.  But  she  has  double  pneumonia  and  low 
vitality  —  lack  of  nourishment,  I  presume  —  and 
the  odds  are  against  her.  The  crisis  will  come  in 
about  two  days  and  I  will  let  you  see  her  to-night, 
a  few  moments  only." 

Scant  consolation,  as  Mark  now  felt,  yet  enough 
to  inspire  the  rainbow  of  hope,  and  then  he  betook 
himself  to  his  office  and  more  cigars  while  he  con- 
sulted time-tables  and  counted  hours  until  Mrs.  Up- 
son  could  arrive. 

When  Agnes,  true  as  a  needle  to  a  magnet  in  the 
matter  of  heart-fidelity  and  promised  duty,  called 
on  him  later,  she  was  treated  as  if  she  were  a  young 
queen,  though  lacking  a  throne  and  worldly  goods 
as  well.  "  Shure,"  she  said  in  her  blunt,  outspoken 
way  after  his  kindly  greeting,  "  shure  ye  do  be  on- 
like  most  min,  sor,  I  kin  see  an'  ye  love  me  frind 
like  ye  war  God,  sor,  an'  for  the  bist.  An'  mither 
says  the  same  too,  sor." 

"  Why,  of  course,"  Mark  rejoined,  well  pleased, 
"  that  girl  is  like  my  very  soul  now,  and  as  dear." 

"  An'  wud  ye  loike  to  know  the  whole  business, 
sor,"  the  irrepressible  Agnes  continued,  watching 
him  admiringly,  "  an'  how  this  all  come  about,  sor  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,"  he  returned  eagerly,  "  every 
word  of  it !  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 


A   VOICE   FBOM    THE    DARKNESS  479 

"  Will  thin,  it  war  a  man,  a  dom  bad,  sneaky  man 
thot  did  it,  axin'  yer  pardon  fur  the  wurrd,"  she 
answered  viciously.  "  A  snake-toad  be  the  name  o' 
Parsons,  her  boss  in  the  big  sthore  whar  I  got  her 
a  place.  He  war  chasin'  her  'n'  harryin'  her  V 
bullyraggin'  her  to  sin  all  the  toime  till  at  lasht 
an'  jist  before  Christmas  he  towld  her  it  war  that 
or  lose  her  job,  an'  she  quit  the  sthore.  I  can't 
see  why  God  iver  made  sich  bastes  as  the  loikes  o' 
him,  sor,  an'  they  ought  to  be  kilt,  so  they  had  1  " 

"  Right  you  are,"  asserted  Mark,  his  face  darken- 
ing in  a  way  that  boded  ill  for  this  "  snake-toad." 
"  And  now  tell  me  the  rest ;  what  happened  after 
she  left  the  store  ?  " 

"  Why  she  went  job-huntin'  in  the  cold,  sor,  an* 
goin'  widout  her  dinners  to  save  the  price  fer  two 
weeks  an'  she  heartsick  all  the  toime,"  returned 
Agnes  eagerly.  "  An'  that  war  heart-throuble,  too, 
sor.  She  war  thot  way  whin  she  come  to  us  me 
an'  Mary  Ann  saw  the  first  toime  we  tuck  her  to 
mass,  fer  her  eyes  got  full  jist  at  the  singin'.  An' 
thot  day  she  towld  us  thar  war  some  man  she  cared 
for  but  niver  towld  his  name.  Shure  she  must  'a' 
felt  you  war  loike  the  Holy  One,  sor,  to  be  spoken 
of  only  in  prayers.  An'  not  until  lasht  night  an' 
she  dyin'  did  she  let  on,  sor,  and  thin  I  ran  to 
tell  ye  till  me  breath  war  gone." 


480  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

"  You  did,  Agnes,  God  bless  you/'  interrupted 
Mark,  "  and  you  made  me  your  friend  for  life." 

"  Thar  war  somethin'  else  too,  sor,"  she  continued 
as  eagerly  and  with  a  curious  look  at  him,  "  an'  it 
comes  to  me  now.  Wasn't  it  you  we  saw  takin'  a 
leddy  into  the  show  one  night  ?  " 

"  It  was,  Agnes,"  he  answered  earnestly,  and  glad 
she  had  mentioned  this  matter.  "  That  lady  was 
poor  Myrtle's  mother  whom  she  has  never  seen  since 
a  babe  and  who  has  been  hunting  for  her  with  me 
for  months.  It's  a  curious  story  that  I  will  tell 
you  some  day." 

Then  the  blue  eyes  of  that  Irish  lass  opened  still 
wider. 

"  Don't  the  poor  darlin'  know  she  iver  had  a 
mither  ?  "  she  queried. 

"  Not  whether  she  has  one  living  now  or  not." 

"  An'  whar  is  her  mither  now  ?  " 

"  Coming  here  as  fast  as  steam  can  bring  her," 
responded  Mark  with  a  heart-leap. 

For  a  long  moment  Agnes  stared  at  him  in  blank 
astonishment  until  her  keen  mind  had  solved  a  part 
of  the  mystery,  then  she  made  answer. 

"  God  wouldn't  be  doin'  right  to  let  the  poor 
darlin'  die  now  wid  a  mither  comin'  to  her,"  she  said, 
her  eyes  filling. 

And  then  Mark  felt  as  he  had  the  night  before 


A    VOICE    FEOM    THE   DARKNESS  481 

while  they  two  swayed  and  bumped  over  the  city's 
byways  on  their  wild  ride  to  M  Street. 

Much  more  of  this  pitiful  story  was  soon  told  by 
Agnes,  recovering  herself.  How  poverty,  want,  al- 
most starvation,  had  come  to  the  Cassidy  family, 
how  Myrtle  had  shared  it  with  them  until  her  money 
was  gone,  her  last  desperate  search  for  work  for  even 
a  meal  in  payment,  until  the  end  came  with  its 
final  pathos.  Not  one  item  or  one  shade  of  the 
pathetic  story  did  this  keen,  world-wise  man  miss, 
and  all  through  the  telling  a  fierce,  almost  murderous 
anger  and  abhorrence  of  this  fellow,  Parsons,  surged 
in  his  heart.  Little  did  he  realize  now,  however, 
that  at  this  very  moment  the  mills  of  God  were 
grinding  the  grist  of  Eternal  Justice  and  this  des- 
picable brute  was  receiving  his  first  portion. 

Then  Mark  turned  his  questions  upon  Agnes  her- 
self and  soon  learned  what  her  and  her  sister's 
chances  for  immediate  employment  were,  of  Tim's 
mishap,  and  the  family's  present  needs. 

"  Would  you  like  to  work  for  me,  little  girl  ?  "  he 
then  queried  courteously.  "  I  need  a  bookkeeper 
and  stenographer  and  I'd  like  to  employ  you." 

"  But  shure  I  don't  know  how  to  kape  books,  sor," 
she  answered,  with  astonishment,  "  or  the  steno  — 
the  other  thing,  sor.  I  wisht  I  did." 

"  No,  I  presume  not,"  he  smiled,  "  but  I  want 


482  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

to  hire  you  just  the  same.  I  will  pay  you  seven 
dollars  a  week  to  start  with,  your  duty  for  a  few 
months  will  be  to  attend  a  business  school  I  shall 
send  you  to  —  and  pay  for  —  and  once  a  week  re- 
port your  progress  to  me  and  get  your  pay.  Is  it  a 
bargain  ? " 

"  I'd  be  a  fool,  sor,  if  I  didn't  take  the  chance," 
she  returned,  her  face  glowing,  "  but  I  won't  be 
arnin'  me  money  to  begin  wid.  Can't  I  come  an' 
swape  and  scrub  the  office  betwane  times,  sor  ?  " 

"  No,  Agnes,"  the  janitor  sees  to  that,"  Mark  re- 
sponded, again  smiling,  "  all  I  want  you  to  do  is 
to  learn  fast,  and  when  I  set  you  to  work  I'll  work 
you  hard  enough  to  make  it  up." 

"  Shure  it's  yer  heart  thot's  spakin',  not  yer 
pocket,  an'  I'll  work  mesilf  blind  fer  ye  whin  I  can 
widout  a  word,  so  I  will,"  she  said. 

"  Now,  Agnes,"  he  continued,  turning  to  his  desk 
and  penning  a  note,  "  take  this  to  the  Brown  & 
Stanton  business  college  next  Monday  morning  and 
begin  your  work  there.  Here  is  two  weeks'  pay  in 
advance,"  he  added,  counting  out  fourteen  dollars, 
"  and  now  how  about  your  sister  ?  Would  she  like 
a  place  as  chambermaid  at  '  The  Elms  '  at  six  dol- 
lars a  week  and  meals  ?  She  can  room  at  home." 

"  Shure  she  wud,  an'  quick  too,'  answered  Agnes 
biting  her  lips,  "  but  you're  doin'  too  much  fer  us 


A    VOICE    FROM    THE    DARKNESS  483 

sor,  an'  plaze  can  I  go  to  the  horshpital  aich  night 
an'  marnin'  now  to  find  how  the  poor  darlin'  girl 
is  comin'  on  an' —  an'  wild  ye  give  me  a  paper 
that'll  let  me  in,  sor?" 

"  Most  gladly,"  returned  Mark,  now  indicting 
one  to  Dr.  Hooker,  "  and  it  will  do  Myrtle  good  to 
see  your  bright  face.  And  me,  too,"  he  added,  "  so 
come  around  here  anytime  after  school  and  tell  me 
how  you  are  getting  on." 

And  so  closed  a  well-worth-quoting  interview  be- 
tween this  typical  city-born,  Irish  lass,  and  a  fair 
sample  of  the  best  and  noblest  among  traveling  men. 
A  class  who  were  all  once  sneered  at  for  the  follies 
of  a  few;  whose  mental  and  moral  worth  to-day  will 
rank  with  any  profession  barring  none;  whose 
average  salaries  will  and  do  exceed  the  money  earned 
by  any  other  class;  who  are  home-makers  and  good 
citizens  also,  and  whose  worst  failing  is  that  they 
will  spend  money  as  though  it  were  autumn  leaves 
and  they  the  owners  of  vast  forests. 

And  the  whole  world  loves  them  for  it. 

But  Mark  had  no  thought  or  care  now  how  liberal 
he  had  been  with  Agnes.  She  had  come  to  him  that 
night  like  a  voice  from  the  darkness  bearing  tidings 
of  supreme  joy  and  unspeakable  dread  as  well;  she 
had  shown  herself  a  wondrously  loyal  and  brave 
little  girl  also,  and  her  acts  and  tears  —  honest  coin 


484  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

in  this  cold  world  —  had  won  from  him  what  no 
money  could  buy  or  money  pay  for.  And  so  he 
paid  her  —  not  with  what  he  gave  her  —  but  with 
a  true  interest  in  her  welfare,  and  unselfish  wish  to 
give  her  an  education  in  some  line  of  remunerative 
work  that  she  might  be  less  a  slave. 

But  he  forgot  her  for  the  time  being  almost  as 
soon  as  the  door  closed  behind  her,  for  all  his  soul 
and  his  every  hope  were  now  at  Mercy  Hospital. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  SWORD  OF  SUSPENSE 

THESE  is  nothing  in  life  so  trying  as  suspense, 
and  that  of  waiting  and  watching  while  some  loved 
one  battles  with  grim  Death  is  the  worst.  In  Mark's 
case  he  could  not  even  watch  —  only  wait.  He  had 
done  all  he  could.  This  loved  one's  life  was  now 
in  the  hands  of  others.  He  could  only  think,  and 
sigh,  watch  the  slow  lapse  of  time  and  hope.  He 
could  give  no  thought  to  business  —  a  dozen  letters 
lay  on  his  desk  unopened.  He  could  not  even  en- 
joy a  cigar,  though  he  smoked  continuously  in  vain 
effort  to  ease  his  mind.  He  paced  his  office  like  a 
caged  lion,  consulted  his  watch  once  every  five 
minutes,  looked  up  trains  again  to  be  sure  how 
soon  Mrs.  Upson  could  possibly  arrive,  tried  a  morn- 
ing paper  and  threw  it  aside  in  disgust,  went  out 
for  lunch  and  couldn't  eat  two  morsels,  and  the  first 
consolation  after  his  heart-burst  towards  Agnes  was 
a  telegram,  "  Shall  arrive  at  eight  o'clock,  meet  me," 
from  Mrs.  Upson. 

"  Eight  o'clock,  ye  gods,"  he  sighed  pulling  out 
485 


486  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

his  watch  again,  "  it's  now  two,  and  six  hours  to 
wait !  " 

He  knew  the  hospital  rules;  knew  that  not  more 
than  once  a  day  would  he  be  permitted  to  enter  even 
though  his  wife  were  there  on  her  dying  bed !  But 
now  —  so  miserable  was  he  —  he  went  there  to  defy 
rules  to  the  extent  of  asking  to  see  Dr.  Hooker.  But 
he  could  not. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  Dr.  Hooker  can't  be  seen," 
was  the  attendant's  polite  answer.  "  He  is  en- 
gaged now  upon  an  operation." 

"  Can  I  find  out  how  Myrtle  —  Miss  Baldwin, 
is  ? "  Mark  next  asked,  "  she  was  brought  here  last 
night  you  know." 

"  I  couldn't  say,  sir,"  the  girl  returned,  "  I  am 
not  permitted  to  enter  any  sick-room  —  only  the 
regular  nurse  can,"  and  Mark  left  the  office  discon- 
solate. He  halted  just  across  the  street  to  look  at 
the  hospital's  many  windows  and  wonder  which 
room  Myrtle  was  in  and  just  then  —  as  if  to  add 
misery  —  an  undertaker's  wagon  emerged  from  its 
court-yard  and  rattled  away  over  the  stony  pave- 
ment. He  knew  the  sad  burden  it  carried! 

And  now  to  kill  time  and  the  merciless  dread 
torturing  him,  he  started  away  to  try  to  walk  it 
off.  One,  two,  three  miles  he  strode  onwards,  un- 
conscious which  way  he  went  or  caring.  Out  into 


THE    SWORD    OF    SUSPENSE  487 

the  brown-stone  region  where  lived  the  wealthy, 
through  the  plain  brick,  all-alike-house  section,  until 
the  houses  grew  smaller,  poorer,  a  jumble  of  wooden 
and  brick  dwellings,  and  then  he  bethought  himself 
of  M  Street.  A  word  of  inquiry  at  a  corner  grocery 
and  he  soon  found  it,  and  then  that  strange,  occult 
sympathy  or  need  of  it,  that  links  all  humanity  rich 
or  poor,  led  him  to  Number  Twenty-seven  and  much 
to  his  satisfaction  Agnes  met  him  at  the  door. 

"  Have  ye  bad  news,  sor  ? "  she  asked  anxiously. 
"  Ye  gave  me  an  awful  start." 

"  No,  little  girl,"  he  returned,  thankful  for  so 
much  interest,  "  I  haven't  any  news.  I  just  came 
to  call  and  talk  with  you  folks." 

"  Fm  glad  to  see  ye,  sor,  come  in,"  she  replied, 
"  Mither's  away  washin'  an'  Mary  Ann  an'  me  is 
fixin'  up  our  best  dresses  —  ye  know  what  for,  sor 

—  an'  I  wint  to  the  horshpital  wid  the  paper  but 
they  wouldn't  let   me   in.     I'm   sorry   the  kapin'- 
room  is  cold,  sor,"  she  added,  ushering  him  into  it, 
"  we  have  only  the  kitchen  fire  now  an'  we  was 
sewin'  there." 

"  It's  just  as  well,  Agnes,"  he  responded  en- 
couragingly, "  so  long  as  it's  warm.  I'll  visit  with 
you  a  few  moments  there." 

And  then  this  well-to-do,  polished  man  of  affairs, 

—  so  miserable  was  he  —  sat  on  a  rickety  wooden 


488  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

chair  in  the  small  kitchen  and  passed  an  hour  visit- 
ing with  these  bright  Irish  girls ! 

And  it  did  him  good,  too,  for  he  learned  much 
more,  not  only  of  how  Myrtle  had  shared  poverty 
with  them  but  what  it  actually  meant  in  makeshift 
and  deprivation.  He  also  wrote  a  request  to  his 
landlady  to  give  Mary  Ann  a  position  on  his  ac- 
count —  a  matter  he  had  forgotten  —  and  after  as- 
suring them  of  continued  friendship  and  assistance 
rose  to  go. 

He  had  not  only  made  them  happier  than  ever 
before  in  their  lives,  but  obtained  a  little  happiness 
as  well,  for  at  the  door  Agnes  made  a  request  that 
warmed  his  heart. 

"  Wud  they  let  me  into  the  horshpital  wid  you, 
sor,"  she  asked,  "  an'  may  I  take  some  flowers  for 
the  poor  girl  ?  Shure  it  might  comfort  her." 

It  was  only  a  wee  little  bit  of  heart-interest,  yet 
such  things  are  as  sunshine  amid  the  gloom  of  de- 
spair. 

How  Mark  passed  the  hours  yet  to  intervene  be- 
fore Myrtle's  mother  arrived  he  never  knew;  only 
that  to  be  on  time  he  was  at  the  depot  a  half -hour 
ahead  of  it,  pacing  the  platform  while  he  waited. 
When  the  train  came  in  and  they  met,  a  tense  "  How 
is  she  ?  "  was  her  first  greeting,  and  a  "  I  haven't 
been  allowed  to  see  her  to-day,"  his  ominous  an- 


THE    SWORD    OF    SUSPENSE  489 

swer.  He  handed  Mrs.  Upson  into  a  carriage,  they 
were  whisked  to  "  The  Elms  "  while  he  disclosed  the 
outlines  of  this  tragedy  and  his  plan  that  she  be 
kept  in  seclusion  for  the  present  and  why. 

"  It's  not  as  though  she  knew  of  your  existence," 
he  urged,  "  she  is  a  very  sick  girl,  delirious  by  spells, 
and  your  face,  or  being  told  who  you  were  might 
unseat  her  reason  for  good.  My  idea  is  that  you 
be  patient  until  the  crisis  has  passed,  or  till  she 
needs  all  the  rallying  assistance  possible,  then  I  will 
break  the  supreme  news  to  her  gently  by  degrees 
and  then  — " 

"  And  then,"  interrupted  her  mother  sobbing,  "  if 
her  life  isn't  spared  mine  will  end." 

And  she  meant  it! 

A  halt  was  made  at  "  The  Elms  " —  Mrs.  Upson 
insisting  that  she  at  least  have  the  privilege  of  look- 
ing at  the  hospital  —  and  then  they  drove  on  to  it. 

And  now  a  good  deal  of  hope  and  some  con- 
solation, was  accorded  to  Mark,  for  Dr.  Hooker  as- 
sured him  that  the  sick  girl  was  doing  well,  and 
added  with  one  of  his  all-over-the-f ace  smiles ,  "  I 
shall  try  my  best  to  saddle  a  wife  on  you,  young 
man."  Mark  was  also  permitted  to  remain  beside 
this  prospective  one  alone  for  fifteen  minutes  and 
how  many  times  he  kissed  her  face,  her  hands,  her 
lips  shall  not  be  recorded.  The  words  exchanged 


490  MYBTLE    BALDWIJf 

were  few,  however.  The  word  "  darling,"  with  the 
possessive  prefixed  became  a  part  of  each  sentence 
he  uttered,  the  devotion  of  Agnes  was  mentioned, 
his  visit  to  M  Street  briefly  described  and  when  the 
nurse  came  back  and  politely  ordered  him  away, 
Myrtle's  eyes  followed  him  out  of  the  room. 

More  tears  —  this  time  joyful  ones  —  followed 
his  buoyant  description  of  Myrtle's  condition  to  her 
mother  a  little  later  in  the  carriage,  and  it  was  long 
past  midnight  that  night  ere  they  separated,  for 
much  had  to  be  told. 

And  not  one  item  of  that  girl's  pitiful  history  and 
battle  for  life  and  honor,  known  to  Mark,  was 
omitted,  or  failed  to  smite  her  mother's  heart. 

"  I  shall  not  sleep,"  she  said  when  shown  to  her 
room  by  him,  "  I  shall  only  think,  think,  think,  and 
reproach  myself.  I  may  pray,"  she  added  wistfully, 
"  I  wish  I  believed  it  would  do  any  good." 

The  next  afternoon  Agnes  appeared  at  Mark's  of- 
fice quite  spick  and  span  in  a  made-over  dress  and 
carrying  some  flowers. 

"  Have  ye  any  good  news,  sor,"  she  queried 
anxiously  on  entering,  "  an'  will  ye  plaze  take  these 
flowers  to  the  poor  girl  ?  I  thought,  sor,"  she  added 
hesitating,  "  you  might  tell  me  whin  ye  war  to  be 
let  in  to  see  her  an'  I'd  be  there  waitin'." 

"  I  saw  her  last  evening,"  Mark  returned  smiling 


THE    SWOED    OF    SUSPENSE  491 

at  this  unique  plea,  "  she  is  doing  well  the  doctor 
says,  and  I  told  her  I'd  seen  you  and  you  sent  love 
and  best  wishes.  I  shall  go  there  again  this  even- 
ing—  once  a  day  for  me,  even,  is  all  they  permit 
—  and  if  you  go  there  at  about  eight  o'clock  I'll  take 
you  in,  too." 

"  I  will,  sor,  shure,"  Agnes  responded  gratefully, 
"  an*  I  won't  stay  a  minute.  Jist  have  a  look  an' 
spake  a  word  an*  lave  you  fer  the  rest.  I  know 
who  her  heart  is  hungry  for,  so  I  do." 

And  that  night  Mark  found  this  loyal  little  lass 
awaiting  him  at  the  hospital  —  she  had  been  there 
an  hour,  in  fact, —  but  both  were  denied  admission. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  Dr.  Hooker  asserted  shaking  his 
head,  "  but  I  don't  think  it's  best  She's  delirious 
again,  we  are  now  keeping  her  heart  action  up  with 
oxygen,  to-night  or  to-morrow  morning  will  tell  the 
story  and  then  I'll  'phone  you." 

"  'Phone  me !  Good  God,  doctor,  that  won't  do !  " 
asserted  the  impatient  one,  "  can't  I  remain  here  on 
call  ? " 

"  Why,  no,"  returned  the  doctor  bluntly,  "  not 
unless  you  want  to  sit  in  this  room  and  wait  and 
that  will  be  a  lonesome  task." 

"  I'll  stay  wid  him,"  interrupted  Agnes  eagerly, 
"an' glad  I'll  be  to  doit,  sor!" 

"No,  it's  better  not,"  the  doctor  explained,  glancing 


492  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

curiously  at  Agnes,  "  and  there  will  be  time  enough. 
Death  won't  ensue  for  some  hours  if  she  fails  to 
rally  and  I'll  'phone  you  in  ample  time  either  way." 

And  so  that  medical  savant  now  coolly  referred 
to  this  life  and  death  race  as  if  it  were  a  mere  tug 
of  endurance  between  two  athletes,  as  indeed  it 
was. 

"  But  there  is  another  matter  I  must  now  ex- 
plain, Doctor,"  Mark  next  asserted ;  "  this  girl's 
mother  is  in  the  city ;  she  isn't  aware  of  her  existence 
• —  in  fact  never  saw  her  since  a  babe  in  arms.  Now 
what  effect  would  follow  if  that  mother  came  in 
when  —  when  she  was  very  low  ?  " 

"  Good,  if  she  was  prepared  for  it,  bad  if  not," 
the  Doctor  answered  tersely  and  then  Mark  and  poor 
Agnes  made  their  exit. 

And  that  night  there  was  much  of  sympathy  and 
suspense  in  M  Street,  and  two  gloomy  faces  with 
aching  hearts  at  "  The  Elms  "  for  neither  Mark  or 
poor  Myrtle's  mother  closed  their  eyes  in  sleep. 

But  to  the  sick  one  now  fighting  for  breath  and 
life  with  a  skilled  nurse  and  medical  science  to  aid 
her  it  was  as  if  the  door  of  heaven  had  suddenly 
opened  before  her  out  of  a  strange,  unaccountable 
horror.  First  the  ever  increasing  agony  of  her 
coughing  spells  with  intervals  in  which  she  believed 
herself  lost  in  a  tangle  of  dark  alleys  with  Par- 


THE   SWOED    OF    SUSPENSE  493 

sons  pursuing,  to  wake  again  to  the  pain  and  find 
the  Cassidy  family  gathered  around  in  tears.  Then 
back  once  more  to  Folly  Island  and  her  little  hut, 
once  gain  to  caress  and  kiss  its  cold  stones  and  beg 
God  to  help  her  now.  Then  came  the  black-robed 
priest  to  intone  her  death-bed  service  while  those 
around  added  sobs  and  despair  and  after  that  the  one 
supreme  moment  and  her  final  renunciation  of  all 
hope  and  sending  her  long-planned  farewell  mes- 
sage to  Mark  with  the  peace  of  mind  and  heart  and 
willingness  to  die  that  came  after. 

And  then,  somewhere  and  somehow,  amid  this 
eerie  phantasmagoria  of  dread  dreams  and  hope- 
less despair  she  had  opened  her  eyes  to  see  Mark's 
face  bending  over  her  and  hear  his  words  of  loving 
assurance,  thrilling  her  as  naught  else  ever  had. 
Then  the  little,  alert,  quick-spoken,  always  smiling 
Dr.  Hooker  came  in  to  grasp  her  wrist,  sound  her 
chest,  listen  to  her  breathing  and  —  say  nothing. 
Soon  she  —  not  at  all  sure  now  but  that  this  was 
another  dream  —  felt  herself  gathered  up,  bed- 
clothes and  all,  by  Mark's  eager  arms,  more  blankets 
wrapped  about  her  and  she  carried  down  and  out  of 
the  house. 

And  that  ride  away  from  M  Street  (she  still  in 
Mark's  arms  and  he  kissing  her  and  whispering  lov- 
ing words  with  Agnes  and  Cindy  holding  blankets 


494  MYRTLE    BALDWIN 

about  her  while  they  were  all  in  some  box-like  con- 
veyance and  toial  darkness)  surely  as  she  then  felt 
and  believed,  she  must  be  dead  now  and  this  was 
heaven,  or  she  being  borne  thither!  How  and  why 
it  had  all  come  about  was  utterly  beyond  her  and 
not  until  more  fitful  dreams  (while  she  again  lived 
her  life  on  Folly  Island  or  was  escaping  it),  had 
come  and  gone,  and  Mark  was  once  more  beside 
her,  did  that  quite  helpless  and  very  sick  girl  re- 
alize where  she  was  and  whose  strong  arms  had 
carried  her  out  of  the  Valley  of  Despair. 


CHAPTER  XLI 


A  CITY  is  a  great  throbbing  human  heart.  A 
gigantic  hive  of  pleasure-seeking,  sorrow-suffering 
humanity,  where  a  few  drones  spend  money  in  idle 
luxury  while  the  many  work.  Where  life  has  be- 
come a  desperate  fight  for  existence  to  thousands  and 
all  sentiment,  generosity,  honesty,  honor  even;  trod- 
den out  of  them  by  the  iron  heel  of  want.  A  city 
is  also  a  place  of  sharp  contrasts  where  public  charity 
buildings  often  face  mansions  of  the  selfish  rich, 
where  their  carriage  horses  splash  mud  on  the  poor 
afoot,  where  funerals  meet  wedding  parties  rolling 
churchward,  where  banqueters  homeward  bound 
jostle  starving  beggars,  where  vice  in  satin  sneers 
at  virtue  in  calico,  where  imposters  thrive  and  honest 
folk  go  hungry,  and  where  God  is  largely  a  myth, 
truth  a  confession  of  ignorance,  and  honor  the  hall 
mark  of  stupidity! 

To  Mark  it  was  all  this  and  more.  A  monster, 
even,  whose  claws,  teeth,  and  acrid  breath,  had  torn 

495 


496  MYETLE    BALDWIN 

and  poisoned  the  one  brave,  innocent,  honest  woman- 
soul  he  ever  cared  for.  And  now,  even,  so  rigid 
are  rules  for  the  saving  of  life  where  it  seemed  of 
least  value,  he  must  needs  be  kept  away,  shut  out 
of  participation  in  a  battle  that  almost  meant  his 
own  life.  He  did  not  rebel,  he  knew  the  reason  for 
it  and  that  this  one  so  precious  to  him  was  but  one 
among  ten  thousand  in  hospital  annals.  There  was 
no  help  for  it,  however.  He  had  done  all  that  love 
or  money  could  do,  the  rest  was  with  God,  possibly, 
or  Dr.  Hooker,  certainly,  and  when  Mark  and  Mrs. 
Upson,  forced  by  inexorable  hospital  law  to  become 
passive  waiters  returned  to  "  The  Elms  "  once  more, 
that  second  night  of  dread  suspense  seemed  never 
to  end. 

And  what  an  interminable,  nerve-racking,  heart- 
scaring  one  it  was!  They  could  not  talk  much, 
scarce  think  during  that  long  vigil,  only  watch  the 
clock  whose  slow,  solemn  beats  might  be  measuring 
the  last  few  moments  of  a  precious  existence,  or  else 
one  another's  faces.  Now  and  then  forced  breaks 
came  while  Mark  described  how  Agnes  had  come  to 
him  like  a  voice  out  of  spirit  land  and  his  own 
frenzied  haste  to  reach  M  Street;  or  else  a  pitiful 
conning  of  the  life  or  death  chances  poor  Myrtle 
had  with  a  mother's  tears  to  add  pathos.  Midnight 
was  chimed  in  the  low,  sweet  melody  of  a  distant 


THE    BREAK    OF    DAY  497 

church  bell,  yet  sounding  like  a  funeral  knell.  One, 
two,  three  and  then  four  o'clock  was  finally  measured 
by  the  same  "  in  requiem "  tones  while  they  yet 
waited  and  then  the  city  began  to  wake  from  its 
few  hours  of  quiet.  First  one  huckster's  cart  was 
heard  far  away  and  faintly,  now  another  nearer  and 
rattling  over  a  stony  pavement  with  more  following, 
and  then,  just  as  the  grey  light  of  coming  dawn  be- 
gan to  compete  with  the  scattered  street  lights  Mark's 
'phone  bell  rang  and  "  The  doctor  says  you  may 
come  now,"  was  the  merciful  message  whispered 
over  the  line. 

Then  came  a  hurried  carriage  call,  and  soon  these 
two  heart-sick  watchers  were  jolting  and  swaying 
away  towards  Mercy  Hospital. 

And  not  even  now  did  they  know  whether  it  meant 
joy  supreme  or  a  death-bed  parting!  More  than 
that,  the  fiat  of  hospital  law  decreed  that  one  of  them 
must  yet  endure  that  awful  suspense  still  longer  and 
alone  in  the  grimly  bare  waiting-room. 

"  Bring  me  the  tidings  soon  as  possible  for  God's 
sake,"  Mrs.  Upson  whispered  to  Mark  and  then  he 
tiptoed  down  a  long  hall  and  into  the  sick  one's 
room.  Two  big,  pitiful,  pathetic  eyes  met  his ;  a 
little  feeble  hand  crept  out,  mutely  asking  to  be 
clasped,  and  as  Myrtle  felt  his  big  warm  one  close 
over  hers  —  the  only  one  that  ever  had  done  this  so 


498  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

far  in  her  life  —  she  smiled  a  wan  smile  of  utter 
content  and  perfect  thankfulness. 

She,  too,  had  been  awaiting  this  longed-for  mo- 
ment many  hours. 

"  My  darling,"  he  whispered,  bending  over  her, 
"  now  you  will  get  well  for  me,  won't  you  ? " 

And  then,  so  wearied  was  she,  a  blessed  life-sav- 
ing sleep  —  the  first  in  two  days,  closed  her  ap- 
pealing eyes. 

"  She  has  been  asking  for  you  all  night,"  the 
nurse  whispered,  "  but  doctor  said  '  no,'  we  must 
wait,  for  the  next  two  hours  are  the  critical  ones 
and  will  tell  the  story." 

And  they  did,  but  only  God  knew  its  finale  now 
or  how  near  to  eternal  silence  poor  Myrtle  had 
gone.  Neither  did  that  faithful  nurse  —  who  had 
never  once  left  her  for  thirty-six  hours  —  know ;  or 
that  all  that  did  save  her  was  the  hope  that  came 
with  Mark's  face  and  the  sleep  that  followed. 

And  now  he,  once  seated  beside  her,  neither  spoke 
or  moved  except  gently  to  stroke  the  inert  hand  that 
lay  in  his  for  one  hour  —  no,  sixty  minutes  each  an 
hour  long  —  and  in  that  interval  he  lived  a  life- 
time of  dread  suspense  and  faltering  hope. 

Then  a  glow  of  crimson  light  began  to  outline  the 
one  curtained  window,  the  nurse  turned  off  the  softly 


THE    BREAK    OF   DAT  499 

shining  electric  bulbs,  Myrtle's  eyes  unclosed,  and 
the  nurse  smiled. 

And  well  she  might,  for  she  alone  knew  how  that 
one  hour  of  sweet,  heaven-sent  sleep,  had  won  against 
death! 

"  Can  I  tell  her  now  safely,"  Mark  whispered  to 
the  nurse,  "  tell  her  some  one  dearer  than  I  —  you 
know  who  —  is  waiting  to  see  her  ?  " 

A  nod  gave  the  hoped-for  assent,  and  once  more  he 
bent  over  the  feeble  one. 

"  There  is  some  one,  my  darling,"  he  again  whis- 
pered, "  a  woman  who  loves  you,  waiting  to  come  in. 
Can  you,  are  you  strong  enough  to  see  her  ? " 

"  I  will  do  anything  you  ask,"  came  the  faint  an- 
swer, as  love  glorified  her  face.  "  Who  is  it  ?  " 

And  now  Mark,  floundering  a  bit  added  another 
drop  of  the  hope-to-be  elixir  of  life. 

"  It's  your  —  it's  some  one  you  can  —  it's  —  it's 
your  mother,  my  darling,"  he  answered. 

One  instant's  quiver  of  hand  and  lips  betrayed  the 
shock ;  a  look  of  wonder  and  swift  flash  of  unspeak- 
able joy  illumined  her  eyes  and  Mark  rising,  felt  his 
hand  drawn  back  and  kissed. 

One  moment  later  a  woman  who  in  that  hour's 
wait  had  endured  a  lifetime  of  torture,  entered  — 
heaven. 


500  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

Her  face  was  drawn  and  tense,  she  trembled  like 
an  aspen  leaf,  and  bit  her  lips  to  choke  the  sobs. 
One  instant  she  faltered  nearing  the  bed,  the  next, 
eyes  like  her  own  met  her's  and  with  an  "  Oh,  God 
be  praised !  "  from  her,  mother  and  child  were  joined 
with  kisses  and  tears. 

Kisses  and  tears !  Kisses  and  tears !  Always  and 
forever  the  same  weak,  foolish,  silly  expressions  in 
this  cold,  selfish,  adamantine  world  of  ours !  You 
are  choked  back  perpetually,  bitten  by  sharp  teeth, 
hid  if  possible,  cursed  sometimes!  And  yet  you, 
despised  though  you  be,  are  the  measure  of  all  joy 
and  sorrow  and  usher  us  into  life  and  out  of  it ! 

And  now  at  this  supreme  moment  while  a  mother 
kissed  face,  eyes,  and  lips  of  her  own  child  after 
twenty  years  of  heart-starvation  with  delirious  ecstasy 
and  tears ;  even  Mark  —  strong  man  that  he  was  — 
shed  tears  as  well.  And  the  nurse,  hardened  by 
many  death  scenes,  also  turned  away  to  hide  hers. 

And  just  then  a  ray  of  morning  sunshine  —  blessed 
omen  —  shone  athwart  that  room !  Faint  at  first, 
like  the  spark  of  life  it  sought  to  aid  and  cheer ;  then 
broader,  stronger,  warmer,  until  it  enclosed  the  two 
faces  still  as  one,  in  an  aureole  of  golden  promise. 

A  new  day,  a  new  life,  a  new  hope,  with  love  and 
a  mother  to  bless  it  was  born  for  the  waif  of  Folly 
Island. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

A   NEW   WOULD 

AN  almost  balmy  winter  day  was  wearing  its  sun- 
set when  three  persons  alighted  from  a  train  at  Good 
Will  Farm.  One,  a  stalwart  young  man,  tall  and 
commanding,  was  half  supporting  a  fair  maid  warmly 
clad  and  wearing  sable  furs,  while  assisting  him  in 
this  devotion  was  a  more  mature  lady  whose  eyes  dis- 
closed a  mother's  relation.  The  girl,  not  quite  as 
well  rounded  as  when  she  escaped  from  Folly  Island, 
still  showed  traces  of  her  many  weeks'  battle  with 
Grim  Death  in  pallid  face  and  feeble  step.  But  her 
lovely  eyes  were  as  appealing,  her  courage  as  heroic 
as  when  she  dared  that  midnight  flight  into  an  un- 
known world.  A  new  beauty,  the  exquisite  charm 
of  loving  and  being  loved,  glorified  her  face  and 
added  a  Madonna  touch.  A  hasty  introduction  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hinckley  awaiting  them  here  soon  fol- 
lowed, all  five  crowded  themselves  into  the  two 
seated  sleigh  beside  the  platform,  and  as  the  bells 
began  their  merry  jingle,  a  few  score  Good  Will 
boys  and  girls,  gathered  to  witness  this  all-important 

501 


502  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

arrival,  added  a  chorus  of  cheers.  And  so  began  a 
new  life  here  for  Myrtle  Baldwin,  with  a  strong 
man's  love,  a  mother's  devotion,  and  every  crown 
worth  wearing  awaiting  her. 

And  what  a  transition  it  was ! 

In  eight  months,  long  ones  to  her,  she  had  moved 
onward  and  upward  from  a  nameless  waif  and  slave, 
hated,  cursed,  and  beaten,  to  an  unsullied  name,  a 
Somebody,  with  every  rose-tinted  illusion  and  prom- 
ise belonging  to  Love's  garden  vouchsafed  her,  and 
each  step  along  its  primrose-bordered  walks  in  har- 
mony with  her  own  heart-throbs. 

Not  for  long,  however,  was  she  content  to  bask  in 
the  sunshine  of  this  new  world,  this  love-elysium,  for 
the  bitter  truth  Cindy  had  once  spoken,  "  You  ain't 
educated  fit  for  that  man,"  still  rankled  in  her  mind, 
and  just  as  soon  as  returning  health  permitted,  she 
set  about  the  self-imposed  duty  of  making  herself 
worthy  of  her  almost  God.  And  she  had  ample  aid 
at  Good  Will  for  Mr.  Hinckley's  chief  axiom  was 
"  Knowledge  is  power,"  there  were  plenty  of  books 
here  to  aid  its  obtainment  with  teachers  of  every- 
thing, including  music,  and  what  with  all  these  to 
assist  and  a  devoted  mother  who  lived  only  for  her, 
we  will  now  leave  her  here  for  the  present. 

Mark,  of  course,  could  not  remain  here  long.  His 
business,  almost  entirely  neglected  for  two  months, 


A  new  beauty,  the  exquisite  charm  of   loving1  and   being- 
loved,  glorified  her  face.  —  Page  501. 


A    NEW    WORLD  503 

now  demanded  his  attention,  and  soon  he  hied  him- 
self away  to  the  city,  and  as  he  would  put  it,  into  the 
traces  once  more.  There  were  also  other  rifts  of 
sunshine  illumining  this  new  world  that  may  well 
be  mentioned  and  one  fell  athwart  the  Cassidy  home, 
for  Agnes  of  wonderfully  keen  mind,  had  mastered 
the  "  Steno  —  the  other  thing,  sor,"  in  the  mean- 
time, was  receiving  increased  wages  in  Mark's  office, 
and  was  so  devoted  to  him  and  so  punctual  that  he 
felt  he  could  set  his  watch  by  her  morning  arrival. 
Mary  Ann  had  also  been  advanced  to  chief  house- 
keeper at  "  The  Elms,"  Tim  was  back  at  work  and 
the  spectre  of  want  had  vanished  from  Twenty-seven 
M  Street. 

"  Shure,  Mr.  Mason,"  observed  Agnes  one  day  to 
him  after  this  had  come  about,  "  the  best  thing  next 
to  bein'  well  is  arnin'  good  wages,  an'  the  next  is 
spendin'  'em  fer  those  ye  care  for.  Whin  I  go  home 
now  wid  me  tin  dollars  on  swate  Saturday  night,  I 
do  be  steppin'  on  springs.  An'  the  way  mither  is 
smilin'  now  ud  do  yer  heart  good  fer  we  don't  owe 
a  cint.  Then  Mary  Ann,  she's  got  a  stiddy  felly 
now  an'  they's  promised,  too,  an'  to  be  read  in  church 
come  Easter.  I  don't  want  no  felly  myself,"  she 
continued  after  a  pause,  "  I  don't  thrust  the  min  at 
all,  at  all,  they's  bad  so  they  be.  I  don't  mean  the 
likes  o'  you,  sor,"  she  added  naively,  glancing  at 


504:  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

Mark,  "  for  you're  not  loike  the  city  ones  an'  I  al- 
ways spake  fer  you  in  me  prayers  an'  say  God  bless 
the  darlin'  girl,  too,  an'  the  day  she  come  to  us." 

Something  else,  equally  pleasing,  yet  more  as- 
tonishing, came  to  Mark  later  for  one  day  while 
Agnes  was  out  on  an  errand,  Cindy,  garbed  so  mod- 
estly that  he  scarce  knew  her,  entered  his  office. 

"  Why,  Cindy,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  both  surprised 
and  pleased  tone,  "  how  are  you  and  why  have  you 
kept  hidden  since  that  night  ?  Myrtle  received  all 
the  flowers  you  sent  to  the  hospital  but  your  face 
would  have  done  her  more  good.  Why  didn't  you 
call?" 

"  I  did  every  day  until  I  found  she  was  out  of  dan- 
ger," responded  Cindy,  looking  pleased,  "  but  I 
didn't  ask  to  go  in.  I  wasn't  sure  you  —  you'd  care 
to  have  me,  Mr.  Mason." 

"  Oh,  nonsense,"  he  returned  briskly,  "  I'm 
broader  than  that  and  you  are  still  her  old-time 
friend."  Then  he  added  the  facts,  all-important  to 
him  of  Myrtle's  recovery,  where  she  now  was,  and 
how  her  mother  had  been  found. 

"  So  I  was  told  at  the  hospital,"  answered  Cindy, 
sighing,  "  and  no  one  is  more  pleased  at  Myrtle's 
good  fortune  than  I  am.  She  deserves  it  all.  I 
called,"  she  added  hurriedly,  as  if  conscious  Mark 
was  wondering  why  she  had,  "  to  send  a  good-bye 


A    NEW    WORLD  505 

message  to  Myrtle  and  my  love.  I'm  going  away 
from  here  for  good." 

"  Going  away !  "  he  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "  what 
for  ?  And  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  sick  and  tired  of  this  life  of  mine," 
she  answered  slowly  and  looking  away.  "  Tired  of 
despising  myself  and  being  despised  by  all  men  and 
scorned  by  decent  women  as  I  am.  And  I'm  going 
to  end  it  all  now.  I'm  going  away  —  I  don't  know 
where  to,"  she  added  plaintively,  "  but  some  place 
where  I  can  find  work.  And  I  shall  change  my 
name  and  live  different,  if  I  starve.  Please  tell 
Myrtle,"  she  contineud,  swallowing  a  sob,  "  and  ask 
her  not  to  forget  me  and  that  I  shall  always  love  her 
as  of  old." 

Then  she  rose  to  go. 

"  Sit  down,  Cindy,"  Mark  now  almost  commanded, 
for  it  had  come  to  him  as  an  utter  surprise,  "  and  tell 
me  more  about  your  plans.  You  are  still  Myrtle's 
friend  and  you  are  not  going  away  in  this  manner 
without  a  word  of  advice.  When  did  you  reach  this 
sensible  conclusion  ? " 

"  That  night  you  carried  Myrtle  to  the  hospital 
in  your  arms,"  she  answered  directly,  "  for  then,  and 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  saw  myself  as  I  was  and 
I  went  to  my  room  and  cried  for  hours." 

Then  Mark  began  to  think  and  to  think  rapidly. 


506  MTKTLE    BALDWIN 

He  was  used  to  studying  human  nature,  knew  the 
counterfeit  from  genuine  on  sight,  and  up  to  this 
moment  had  had  no  faith  or  belief  this  Cindy  would 
ever  rise  above  her  chosen  life.  And  yet  here  she 
was  with  a  vein  of  pure  gold  coming  to  the  surface, 
the  ring  of  honesty  in  her  words,  and  ready  to  face 
what  Myrtle  had  faced ! 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Cindy,"  he  said  earnestly 
after  a  pause  and  still  watching  her  downcast  face. 
"  And  let  me  assure  you  I  am  now  your  friend.  I'm 
not  going  to  preach  to  you,"  he  added  slowly  after 
another  pause,  "  I  don't  believe  in  that  method. 
But  I'm  going  to  offer  you  a  helping  hand,  and  for 
Myrtle's  sake  and  because  you  came  to  her  that  night 
of  despair,  you  must  accept  it." 

"  I  didn't  come  here  to  ask  for  help,"  she  returned, 
her  eyes  filling,  for  this  was  the  first  time  any  man 
had  ever  offered  it  to  her  in  an  honest  way,  "  I  only 
came  to  send  good-bye  to  Myrtle." 

"  I  know  it,"  he  said  smiling,  "  but  I  hope  to  re- 
port pleasanter  news  to  her,  and  now  I've  a  business 
proposition  to  make  you  and  plans  I  want  you  to  as- 
sist me  in  carrying  out.  First,  as  you  may  not 
know,  Cap'n  Jud  has  gone  the  way  he  came  near 
driving  Myrtle,  and  I  am  now  the  owner  of  Folly 
Island.  I  propose  and  plan  as  soon  as  spring  comes 


A    NEW    WOELD  507 

to  strip  it  of  every  vestige  of  his  occupancy,  build 
a  summer  home  there  for  Myrtle,  her  mother  and 
myself,  and  as  Aunt  Perth  must  be  cared  for  I  shall 
erect  a  small  cottage  for  her  at  Sandy  Bay  where  she 
can  end  her  days  in  comfort.  I  also  need  some  one 
to  take  care  of  her,  and  now  I've  this  to  offer  you. 
Instead  of  your  going  away  as  you  propose  into  a 
world  of  strangers,  I  want  you  to  return  to  Sandy 
Bay  and  keep  house  for  her.  If  you  will,  I  will  pay 
you  fifty  dollars  a  month  and  all  house  bills  as  long 
as  she  lives  and  then  I'll  give  you  a  deed  of  the  house 
as  a  present.  You  can  also  have  your  sister  with 
you  at  no  cost  to  her.  What  say  you,  Cindy?  Is 
it  a  bargain  ? "  And  then  this  practical  man  who 
solved  all  problems  by  the  rules  of  business  and  com- 
mon sense  smiled  at  the  girl  who  sat  watching  him. 

But  she  was  scarce  able  to  answer  at  all  just  then, 
and  when  she  did  it  was  brokenly. 

"I  —  I  can't  thank  you,"  she  said  finally  be- 
tween the  choked-back  sobs,  "  but  —  but  I'll  do  my 
best  to  deserve  this  help,  and  I  swear  to  God,  whom 
I  still  believe  in,  neither  you  nor  Myrtle  shall  ever 
again  have  cause  to  feel  shame  for  me." 

Then  she  raised  her  head  and  Mark  saw  in  her 
defiant  glance  through  tears,  that  that  won  his  faith 
entirely  and  made  him  proud  of  his  own  offer. 


508  MYKTLE   BALDWIN 

And  she  kept  faith  with  him  and  two  years  later 
married  a  young  fisherman  of  Sandy  Bay  and  became 
a  devoted  wife. 

When  midsummer  came  again  and  new-mown  hay 
perfumed  Good  Will  Farm,  a  few  tried  and  true 
friends  met  there  to  participate  in  an  ordinary  yet 
always  joyous  event.  Amos  and  Mrs.  Orton,  Aunt 
Perth  and  Cindy  came  up  from  Sandy  Bay,  Farmer 
Cony  and  "  Mother  "  also  and  Mary  Ann  and  Agnes 
from  the  city.  They,  invited  by  Myrtle  weeks  ahead 
of  the  wedding-day  —  with  ample  means,  enclosed 
for  suitable  clothing  —  found  the  trip  a  marvel  in 
its  way,  for  never  before  had  they  journeyed  beyond 
the  suburbs  of  Athens. 

"  Shure,"  said  Agnes,  after  kissing  Myrtle  again 
and  again  in  ecstatic  manner,  "  shure,  me  darlin',  I'm 
so  glad  to  see  ye  I  cud  ate  ye !  An'  ye  do  be  growin' 
so  handsome  I  wouldn't  know  ye  in  the  city.  But  it's 
a  long  ways  up  here,  so  it  be,"  she  rattled  on,  "  an'  I 
niver  knew  before  how  big  the  wurrld  was.  An'  thar 
war  places  we  wint  through  fer  miles  wid  nothin'  but 
trees  alongside  an'  when  we  stopped  thar  war  folks 
waitin'  jist  to  see  the  train  go  by.  I  s'pose  they  do 
be  lonesome  livin'  so  fur  away.  An'  I  saw  wood, 
too,  long  stacks  of  it  iverywhere  so  plenty.  Shure 
the  country  must  be  foine  to  live  in  winters  an'  kape 
warm  so  aisy." 


A    NEW    WORLD  509 

Next  day  came  the  all-important  episode  of  this  re- 
union in  Good  Will's  little  church  and  then  Mark  and 
Myrtle  hied  themselves  away  to  Conway  Hollow. 

A  month  later  —  and  the  first  time  for  Myrtle 
since  her  midnight  flight  —  this  quite  happy  pair 
returned  to  Folly  Island.  A  few  changes  had  taken 
place  in  the  interim,  new  to  her  eyes  at  least,  for  a 
handsome  cottage  built  of  beach  stones  now  stood 
where  her  ancient  rookery  of  a  home  once  had,  and 
its  wide  verandas  and  beautiful  furnishings,  gave 
every  promise  of  cozy  summer  comfort.  Not  a  ves- 
tige of  the  old  spider-leg  wharf,  fish-house  or  bar- 
nacled wreck  remained,  but  where  they  once  were  was 
a  pretty  boat-house  with  piazzas  overlapping  the  cove 
and  alongside  a  new  wharf,  lay  a  sizable  power  boat 
with  canopy  and  inviting  cushions.  The  old  bridge 
only  had  been  left  intact,  beneath  it  the  tidal  current 
still  eddied  and  swirled  as  of  yore,  and  adown  the 
island  where  they  soon  strolled  hand  in  hand,  the  sea 
gulls  were  still  circling  above  and  about  the  little 
cove  where  Myrtle  had  once  fed  them.  Her  flower 
garden,  replanted  and  cared  for,  was  now  a  variegated 
glow  of  color,  and  most  suggestive  forethought  of  all, 
a  neat  and  well-built  wall  of  white  and  brown  stones 
with  lattice  gate  enclosed  her  playhouse  as  if  that 
sacred  trysting-spot  and  poem  of  a  child-woman's 
heart  must  ever  be  protected  and  preserved. 


510  MYRTLE   BALDWIN 

And  here  beside  this  they  halted. 

And  now  Myrtle  with  all  the  flood-tide  of  old  mem- 
ories sweeping  her  backward  to  an  unloved  past,  first 
glanced  out  over  the  broad  ocean  whose  monotone 
once  seemed  a  requiem,  then  down  to  the  hut  beside 
which  she  had  knelt  at  midnight  to  ask  God's  help, 
and  then  at  Mark's  smiling  face. 

And  now  at  this  supreme 'moment  of  her  life  when 
past,  present,  and  future  were  joined  in  her  heart, 
her  eyes  filled. 

"  Tut,  tut,  my  darling,"  he  said  tenderly  gather- 
ing her  in  his  arms,  "  no  more  tears  now." 

"  Sometimes  they  come  from  perfect  happiness," 
she  answered. 

Then  he  kissed  her. 


BOYHOOD  DAYS  ON  THE  FARM 

By  CHARLES  CLARK  MUNN 

With    Full-page    Drawings    and  Chapter   Headings 
by  FRANK  T.  MERRILL     Price,  $1.50 

"The  very  best  representation  of  boy  life  as 
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MISS     BILLY 

A      NEIGHBORHOOD       STORY 

By   EDITH    K.    STOKELY    and    MARIAN    K.    KURD 

Illustrated  by   CHARLES   COPELAND 

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HEARTS  AND  THE  CROSS 

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Being  the  Romance  of  a  Tory  Belle  and  a  Patriot  Captain 

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A  Romance  of  To-day 

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On  The  Great  Highway 

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Judith's   Garden 

By    MARY    E.   STONE    BASSETT 

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